


The Wedding Arrangement

by RAW_SYNTH3TICA



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Norse Religion & Lore, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, Angst and Feels, Arranged Marriage, Bigotry & Prejudice, Dark Magic, Enemies, Engagement, Gender Roles, Genderbending, Heavy Angst, Interspecies, Jealousy, Jötunn Loki, Kid Loki, Kid Thor, Loki Angst, Love at First Sight, M/M, Magic-Users, Male Slash, Marvel Norse Lore, Mistaken Identity, Mythology - Freeform, Possessive Behavior, Public Humiliation, Sadism, Secret Identity, Situational Humiliation, Tragedy/Comedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:11:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RAW_SYNTH3TICA/pseuds/RAW_SYNTH3TICA
Summary: Prompt:So Laufey and Odin want their children to marry each other and they arrange a meeting to see if they would be willing. It takes hell of work just to get Thor there - he imagines typical frost giant and just loses it, possibly yelling and trashing things - but when he meets Loki he is smitten and eager to marry him (and fuck him).But Loki thinks he is a moron and does not want to rule and have children with someone so stupid... and refuses to marry him.BUT....a lotta shit happens Before & After all that goes down.Loki has an evil family & many secret identities (+ gender) - Thor is gullible & easily fooled (by literally Everyone) - Baldr is too polite & handsome (to literally Everyone) - Odin is a hardcore gambler & so is Laufey - Frigga is an overprotective BAMF - did i miss anything?...or something like that.( regularly updated every 3-4 days )





	1. The Arrangement

**Author's Note:**

> ALL IS FICTIONAL & NOT MINE.  
> enjoy, QueenofShire405...
> 
> will be updated every 3-4 days   
> from 7pm-3am on 3rd day since last post OR from 4pm-3pm on 4th day IF NOT Posted on 3rd day :3

_Asgard, home of the Gods and Goddesses of old, was under attack by the Frost Giants of Jotunheim._

_Odin took to arms with his army, and a mighty battle ensued – numerous fought, countless perished – heavenly guards and giants alike until the world, once connected, became separate realms to themselves._

_The Frost Giants to Jotunheim, the Dwarves to one realm, the Elves to another, the Humans to Midgard, and We, the Gods, to Asgard – a vast space grew between each respective realm only to be crossed through magic and sorcery than by foot._

_Eons thence, a truce of peace was called between Odin & Laufey on the terms that if one or the other had a daughter, then the daughter would marry the other's son, the son's family would then pay an immense dowry for the daughter's hand. _

“-Which is why you, my sons, must take an interest in politics and your studies rather than wishing desperately for battle,” Frigga broke from her story, she brushed a hand over Baldr's arm and pulled Thor's coverlet higher, “Especially you, Thor.”

Out of mischievousness, Thor kicked his small legs until his covers fell to the floor of his vast chambers, Baldr, to his annoyance, simply bent over, picked up the velvet coverlet and smoothed the layer back over Thor's legs, he puffed out his small cheeks at his elder brother.

“Aw, but mother-” Thor squeaked obstinately, Frigga suppressed an unladylike frown whilst Baldr chuckled – as the youngest Odinson, Thor added extra emphasis on the last word of his opinion, “-Frost Giants are _ugly_!”

Frigga shook her head, nearly choosing that very moment to ask Odin to bless their palace with a girl rather than forcing their children to play the ancient game of deceit and fate, seeing that his mother was quiet Thor asked, “How do you expect Baldr or I to wed humongous blue women? I may never be seen again come my wedding night!”

Older and wiser than Thor, Baldr leaned down low until he was face to face with Thor and whispered conspiratorially, “Brother, would you rather be in matrimonial congress with a Dwarf?”

“Yes!” without waiting for a breath, Thor shouted whilst throwing up his arms and setting his furs and coverlets in another tangle, “Famine, war, pests and Dwarves before I take the hand of a clumsy blue tower!”

Frigga held back a giggle behind her kindly stern lips, Baldr chuckled good-naturedly with his deep voice that Thor envied almost as much as which age brings ensuing physical maturity, “Have you seen a Dwarf?”

“Have you seen a _Giant_!?” Thor hurriedly crawled over his vast bedding and leaned over to the edge where his wooden sword rested, he came about the room twirling and slashing as much as his tiny arms would allow, he heroically stepped over to an etched mural of the Great Battle of Jotunheim, he shouted at the top of his lungs, “I'd be lucky if she kills me before she _breaks_ me in half!”

“Oh? What would you do with a pretty one, little brother?” Baldr scooped up Thor from the middle of the room and placed his tiny squirming body back atop the bed, they bickered as brothers do until Frigga interrupted.

“Hush, children, and listen:-” Frigga pressed her forfinger to Thor's lips which placated the young godling, she smiled and continued the story which all beneath Asgard's rule knew by heart, “ _Fortune smiled on Odin for he was borne two sons:_ _Baldr the kind protector and Thor the mighty unproven one. With these two sons, King Laufey schemed of the impending benefits of the two marriages to ensue..._ ”

The same story is known and told throughout the realms near and far, those of Jotunheim are the ones whom know it best next to the Asgardians:

“Odin having two sons & Laufey having hundreds, Frigga chooses from hundreds of Laufey's children eight of the most beautiful and eligible girls...” a giantess recounted the tale, she being one of two servants appointed to Laufey's numerous daughters, she took up the daughters' favorite pastime of referring the the youngest and weakest of their family, “-and mistakes Loki whom happens to be a boy.”

Upon hearing his name, Loki perked up from his corner of his family's cave, he pulled his own fur blankets closer to himself, feeling a chill from his sisters – it was no secret that each and every one of his sisters blamed Loki for Laufey's absolute unhappiness, none refuted the eldest sister's claims that she was the rightful First child of King Laufey's house, or that Loki was gradually driving their father insane with hatred and lovelessness.

“How absolutely _terrible_ of you!” one mentioned conspiratorially, “But it does serve him right-”

Each sister shared only their sire, their father had made his own rounds as a reckless youth, from Jotunheim to Sigurd, never having relations within Midgard nor Asgard – Midgard was as of yet a futuristic speck in the universe whereas Asgard never opened their gates willingly to a nation they once warred against, which was soon to change.

“Killing his poor mother and being...abnormal,” another nameless sister whispered to an unseen ear, she excitedly chattered on, “No wonder father loathes him so-!”

Ein, Loki's wet-nurse stepped carefully atop the fozen stone flooring, her steps muffled by her fur boots and the fur cloak enswathed about her lithe form, she stood as tall as an Asgardian woman and bore no Frost Giant lineage, yet was appointed to look after the youngest Prince Loki.

“Pay your sisters no mind, Prince Loki-” Ein's low voice was as quiet and furious as a mother's wrath, she looked over her shoulder at the hunched forms of the royal giantesses loitering within the cave, she spoke more evenly as the giantesses leered at both Ein and Loki, “-they are only the words of a frostbitten wench whom has little else to do than gossip and stare at her own reflection.”

Ein plucked up Loki's tiny body from the cave's corner, she tread along a vast corridor where icicles hung from the ceilings unto hanging torches, she mused of how quickly the prince aged, it was not very long ago that Loki was a newborn babe whom squealed and warbled in her arms, and was now alas able to take short bursts of running steps instead of meandering clumsily along, she held the odd princeling close to her warm bosom and marveled of his snow-like skin; softer than a Jotunn monster's leather hide, smoother than fresh ice, and his hair being as black as Jotun iron, the babe's face had no blunt or severe features as his father, all was round and delicate upon the babe's face – any whom mistakes Loki for a princess is justified in every respect, so Ein thought.

“Thank you, Ein,” Loki murmured against his wet nurse's shoulder, he curled himself tightly upon her warmth and peered at the caves' walls to an etching of the Great Battle – his eyes passed over the puny Asgardians whom held weapons to the towering giants, he pressed his cheek to Ein's fur cloak and whispered his tiny voice, “I hope the Odinsons take each and every single rotten one of them.”

“I wish blessings upon you,” Ein held the princeling close, knowing within herself of his many sisters' undeserving nature to be wed to the Asgardian Odinsons, she said, “They will make terrible wives, and even more dire mothers.”

“Ein?” Loki asked, he stared up from her shoulder to her face, which was pleasant in its own way rather than beautiful, reassured by her inquisitive expression, he continued his question, “Is it true that...”

The silence following held his silent few words that he had forbidden himself to utter: ' _...that I killed my mother_?'

“Prince Loki, it is a mother's duty to sacrifice for her babe-” Ein held Loki's tiny body up at eye-level, she explained one of the few teachings her own unknown mother had passed on, and yet, her voice was only flat and unattached, “Even if bearing the babe costs her life. It is an act of love which consummates her babe and it is an act of loving forfeiture for the babe to pass unto adulthood.”

Loki wondered, gathering all his worldly understanding that his dawning glimpse of life bestowed unto his young self, and found himself lacking knowledge of a parents' duties toward their children, he asked, “What about father's act? Does he sacrifice for my sake, too, Ein?”

Loki's wet-nurse took in an audible breath, her steps stilled upon the frozen walkway, her body turned to a wall etching of two figures embracing, their etched arms entwined about the other as a very large male hand held the female's swelled womb – in all of Ein's eon nursing King Laufey's many children, she remembered that her giant-king never being so overjoyed as he had been with the sweet-tempered Midgardian fae whom wandered to Jotunheim and fell so deeply in love that she never left.

“In his own way, King Laufey does in deed love you,” Ein answered, she leaned forward as Loki brushed his tiny hand over the icy cave wall where the female figure's hands lay clasped within the male's hands, her long flowing hair fanned out and gilded in a thin film of gold, her white skin contrasting against the Jotun male – Ein took a torch from the nearest wall and held the flame up to the etched mural, “Yet grief's shadow has yet to unclothe his thinking.”

The full mural alas visible, Loki took in the image of his father Laufey lovingly clasping his tiny mother close, their arms around the other and their hands joined over the womb – and Loki reasoned to himself that he would never _inspire_ warmth nor _feel_ the embrace of love for as long as his half-immortal life allowed.


	2. Journey to Asgard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> still a kid-fic...sorry that it's dark, it'll lighten up

Being that Jotuns aged faster than Asgardians, King Laufey thought that it was time to grace Asgard with his presence, so he called unto the elder God Odin:

“Are we still in agreement, Odin, it would appear in bad form if you were to back out on our arrangement,” King Laufey sneered haughtily at the crystalline surface of a wall where Odin's own form showed as if they were parted by glass.

“Old friend, the ruler of Asgard never forgets his promise,” Odin stroked his beard thoughtfully as they strode side by side along the wall, he asked, “How have you fared thus far?”

“Splendidly, as one should expect from the ruler of Jotunheim,” King Laufey picked an ice chip from the black jewel upon his finger, he halted at an enclosure where Odin also stopped their walk – he nodded to a visible cave opening, “My daughters are now of wedding-age. So, too, have the two Odinsons', I have heard.”

Odin spied with his eye numerous beauties in their age of fertility, he thought to himself that surely one of his sons or hopefully both would find a marriageable Giantess within King Laufey's genetic tangle – and yet, Thor was at the age where he _should_ learn the ropes of marriage, but instead amused himself with sneaking off to Heimdall's keep – Odin knew the only way that his youngest would take interest in marital vows was if the godling was paraded around King Laufey's beautiful daugthers.

“Which ever dark-dwelling troll of the nether realm has told you the gossip regarding my sons is true,” Odin smiled to himself, he liked the odd challenge of having King Laufey's daughters strut about Thor whom was battle-minded more than ogling the flesh of fair maidens, he would rather take entertainment from the sure robbery of his treasury, and so he told a small lie, “Warriors both, of prime wedding-age also.”

Visibly content with the favorable circumstances, King Laufey nodded his awaiting approval, “We shall proceed as promised?”

“You have my word, King Laufey,” Odin agreed, his voice holding a more riant ring as he answered, “Come to Asgard with your daughters as our honored guests.”

Within the hour, King Laufey had gathered all his daughters and his lone son unto a stone five-caravan wagon, and they were off to seek their marital fortune.

The trail through Ginnungagap was uneventful, being that the conjoined stone wagon drawn by a team of winter sheep and a tamed beast-ox was weighed down by a caravan devoted to all the most beautiful of Laufey's daughters – Loki could hear their loud giggling and pontifications as he rode silently, his own caravan behind theirs' was tiny compared to his sisters'. A single wooden seat held himself and Ein, she had previously laid down a cushion and fur blanket so that his seat was soft through the tumultuous darkness and stars, he watched the single destination they were headed as it gradually grew brighter, and brighter still, a place he assumed was called Asgard, the road of starlight supported their entire family so much so that Loki thought that they would crash the road and end up in Muspelheim.

From behind the billowing fur curtain, he asked his wet-nurse, “Ein?”

Her soothing lullaby ended, she brushed a warm hand over Loki's forehead as he peered up at her with his blank eyes, “Yes, my Prince?”

“Why do I need to marry?” Loki whispered, his voice could be sweet if it were not hardened by ages of being an island all his own – his face would be fair if his stern expression did not mar his features, Ein unconsciously pressed her forefinger unto the skin of his brow and gently pulled up so that he seemed less barbaric.

“So that you may live a life full of happiness,” she continued to massage the hard edges of his face until his face relaxed, Loki's expression seemed more to convey sadness as if he were a lost soul – figuring his hidden sorrow, she asked, “What has been said in my absence?”

There was a moment in their journey when Ein had gone to fetch a plate of cooked meats and ofal pies from the caravan just near the servant's quarters which was set in the middle of the sisters' caravan and behind the Jotun driver's coach – one elder sister could only fit her pretty head into the doorway before she divulged her fill of vile gossip, all whilst Loki sat staring at the single bright object shining a few ages from reach.

“My sisters tell me that I am unlovable,” Loki's previous expression returned with a vengeance – Ein listened with her heart turned to stone of the Giantesses' last few words to their youngest sibling, his words were as icy and sharp as the cave's ceiling cicles, “None love me, father detests me, and even the color of my skin flees me.”

“Hah! Forget your foolish sisters, remove from your mind everything they may say in their bitterness,” Ein tossed her head at the thought of the sisters trying to bring the infant prince's spirits asunder – she reached for his dark curls and fastened the long strands at his nape with a golden cuff, once done she held his tiny body close and said softly, “What they see in you are _their_ flaws.”

Loki watched the shining road they passed upon, the bright halo of light which encircled the place he heard of in fables and bedtime stories: Asgard, home of the Gods and Goddesses of old, those far mightier than the most powerful Jotun Giant, the most skilled Dwarf, the most cunning Elf, those whom defy death and sickness with sheer glory. A twinge of yearning, a bitterness in his heart which was almost the start of jealousy was swiftly snuffed by Loki's sense of duty as the forgotten Prince of Jotunheim, he knew that if the task were his own that he would ask only to be given limitless knowledge rather than a pretty body to wake up next to in the mornings within Asgard, and so he steeled his resolve to forever break himself and Ein from his family.

“Perhaps, one day, Prince Loki, you will understand-” Ein smiled, sensing his pliant body as his acceptance of her words to be married to an eligible Asgardian, Loki felt his short legs being wrapped in furs and his body swaddled as sleep overcame him, “-you will experience from another that you are loved.”

With the light of Asgard encompassing the road of stars and chasing away the outer edges of Ginnungagap by thousands of leagues, Loki awoke alone to the sight of his father, King Laufey sitting within his quarters, the stone walls yielded to Laufey's height and width so it seemed as the gilt and fur train of his vast coat stretched through the doors– Loki sat at attention and wasted no time looking for his absent wet-nurse, he squared his small shoulders and looked unmoving up at his father:

“The one thing I have ever truly loved, the one thing that I have ever cherished-” King Laufey whispered, the Giant King was dressed in high court fineries as were all the royal Giantesses – Loki listened, “-was taken from me.”

He found himself surrounded by a small team of servants whom laid out an outfit of forest green rather than the Jotun royal court's midnight blue and white – Loki touched the golden embroidery of swirls and graceful tangles which met at the center of the long tunic's lapel, the fabric crushed softly within his hands unlike the tanned hides which the Jotuns wore, this particular fabric seemed more fragile and delicate than suited to his tiny stature.

Catching himself admiring the handiwork and craftsmanship of his outfit, he snatched his hands back to himself and sullenly answered, “I am sorry, King Laufey.”

“ 'Sorry'?” King Laufey did not contain the cruel laugh which shook the stone caravan until the Giantesses screamed their horror, “The meaning of the word has never touched your soft head.”

Loki never uttered a single cry of alarm, he meekly stated, “I am sorry-”

“She meant everything to me and yet-” King Laufey continued as if he were speaking to a criminal of war than his own son, he began openly accusing Loki of his late wife's death long ago before the journey to Asgard was in conception, “-she was taken, as if made of sunlight and seed, she was frozen away...”

Loki hid his surprise of the small information he was given of his mother by speaking quietly, “I am truly sorry-”

“You are not my son,” King Laufey stated darkly, he stood and the stone caravan grew along with his stature, his voice boomed across the star-road – it was strange that the Asgardians sounded no alarm for the fury erupting at their gates, “No son of mine shuts himself in to play games and makes true Jotun boys into impotent Man-Lovers!”

Truly, by no fault of his own, Loki was cursed by his mother's bewitching beauty, the kind where even a single look would fell nations and kingdoms alike, the kind that would bring admirers far and wide to loiter about Jotunheim's fortified keep threatening war if the princess were not wedded to an obscure prince's hand or given to a king as their pleasure-slave – and once King Laufey thought that he could rid himself of his sinful child and wash his hands evermore of the reminder of his late beloved, the armies and the kings saw Loki's age – in no way were they going to be given the reputation as an infant-bride's husband.

Young Jotun boys would cavort their days away instead of training for King Laufey's armies, some attempted to tie themselves eternally to the shamed Prince only to be found out and given reprimand – doubly so for Loki.

Loki alas showed his weakness, his voice cracked, “It was never my intention-”

“Do not talk back to me!” as if physically struck by King Laufey's hand, Loki flinched back against the furthest corner of the caravan and bit his lower lip, “I just wish that you had died in her stead.”

Loki grit his lip between his teeth, his hands balled up into tight fists as King Laufey reached down to his tense body, the enormous black talon-like finger brushed away a black strand that covered Loki's face – the seemingly tender gesture was enough to make Loki scream, he instead shuddered within his helplessness of the situation.

“You look exactly like her,” King Laufey gently took a hold of his chin, Loki could not bring himself to look away from his father – Laufey's fingers brushed along Loki's cheek, his fingers pressed into the softness of the round cheeks, the pointed fingernails broke skin and pushed in, further in the claw sunk and stopped alas at Loki's tongue which was also punctured, Loki's eyes watered from the pain, “So beautiful, such a warm heart just bursting with love...”

King Laufey's fingers withdrew from Loki's bleeding face, his dark lips stretched into a sneer as he licked the blood from his fingernails.

“...Yet you cannot bring yourself to love me,” Loki spoke low, the opening and closing of his mouth stung his entire face as he tried to form words, he took the fur blanket and dabbed the blood from his cheeks, “I understand, King Laufey, I am a failure.”

“Remarkable,” King Laufey stated almost jovially, he turned and walked through the tiny doorway which stretched to his vast height and swallowed all but the fur train of royal cloak, “You have learned your true potential.”

As if in an afterthought, Laufey ripped a swatch of white lace from one of the sisters' dress, he tossed the swatch at Loki and seemingly instructed, “Out of my sight, I cannot stand you.”

“As you wish, King Laufey,” Loki answered, he staunched the last of the blood by biting his inner cheek until the flow ebbed, yet the pain remained the same – he looked upon his clothing sorrowfully and stood to begin dressing, “I know my place.”

“King Laufey's caravan approaches!” Heimdall announced, his voice booming across Asgard, each home opened their windows and quick fingers worked to braid flower garlands which would be strung across the main street, festive musicians tuned their lutes and pipes to play at Asgard's heart in Odin's courtyard where two young gods, their mother and the garden in full bloom could be seen in their own godly fineries.

“Thor? Dear and dutiful of mine?” Frigga once more bent to straighten Thor's crimson cape, “Will you please stop fidgeting with your tunic? Our guests should be arriving soon.”

“It itches so-!” Thor continued to tear at the cape's lapel and the neck of his tunic, he hissed for the intricate and utter uselessness of the embellishments upon his clothing, “This dreadful tunic and this horrid cape, and this _accursed day_!”

Defeated, Frigga knelt to Thor's height, she marveled briefly of his age where he was just budding into a pubescent young god and gone were the days when she used to easily mend his clothing of their holes and tears, and here were the days she would be sewing a babe's smock for Baldr's future wife, she asked tiredly, “Would it please you to wear rags in the presence of our guests, Thor?”

“At least my undergarments are soft, mother,” he mumbled quietly.

“Then by all means, please, strip down to your undergarments and prance about like a common beggar, if you will,” Frigg motioned for a servant girl over from the palace's wing – without thinking, Thor tore off his stiff overcoat and cape until he stood in his under-tunic and his last pair of good trousers, the servant girl blushed as she picked up the discarded clothing and rushed away still red in the face.

“With pleasure,” Thor answered, he ran to the flowerbed and pulled his sword from the tangle of roots, he ran back to his mother and kissed her upon the cheek before turning away and scampering off, he yelled without stopping, “I, myself, and my sword will be down by Heimdall's keep if my might is needed to keep the Giants at bay!”

“Careful, baby brother, I may pick the prettiest for mine own if you are not back in time!” Baldr yelled back to Thor whom only turned around to yell:

“You may have the whole _lot_ if you'd be oh so kind, brother,” Thor laughed in his high-pitched voice that was on the verge of deepening into the tone of adulthood, “Honestly, nothing'd make me happier than to battle the Giants!”

“Battles!” Frigga threw up her hands, she loathed to think of her sons dreaming of war campaigns for the sake of glory and having their stories told through the nine worlds in song, Baldr held his seemingly fragile mother as she said wistfully, “My boys and their battles. You both wound me so. You both will be in a battle of your own with your own wives if they themselves ever hear such talk of battles.”

“We are our father's sons after all, mother,” Baldr kissed his honored mother upon her head, he easily towered over her even in his age as a young god, he joked softly, “Perhaps he should have a spell put upon him by-”

“I dare not tamper with your conjoint judgments as such if the decision were mine, Baldr,” Frigga's mood lightened, she giggled, they both watched as Thor's leaping and jumping form met up with the four young godlings Hogun, Fandral, Volstagg and Sif, “My youngest needs time and patience to see love through his own eyes...”

Odin and Frigga had hoped that their youngest Thor would take a liking to the young goddess Sif, and yet crueler still was fate for other plans were in store for the young god.


	3. Trouble in Asgard

Raising his golden sword, Heimdall lifted the high gates from the Bifrost, and welcomed King Laufey's mobile envoy; Thor lay his hands upon his sword and his chin as if expecting an army of Frost Giants to march behind, there came only two-dozen unarmed foot soldiers, the young Godling perked up at the sight:   
  
Black iron armor unlike any he had ever seen gleamed wickedly within the golden light of Asgard's vast Realm, Thor raised his sword to strike fear within the behemoth Frost Giants' cold hearts, they looked upon Heimdall's stronghold set above the surrounding gates to his tiny form in battle stance, their black lips breaking into a grin which in turn caused Thor to reassess the soon-to-be battlegrounds regarding his own honor as Asgard's future Regent – he thought to himself: 'Do they not know a mockery they make of Odin's son?'

Before Thor flung himself off unto the midst of the envoy, he spied a blue-eyed child at the very back of the caravan, – she was...tiny...even smaller than Sif whom was a head and a half smaller than Thor himself, this particular child bore no resemblance to the Frost Giants whom marched behind, she possessed the milky skin of one whom had not seen the sun, hair as black and smooth as a raven's plumes, eyes clear and wide as if cut from a frozen star, and lips alike a shy bloom's first blushing petal – young as Thor knew himself to be, his heart seized as her bright eyes fell unto his own, assessing him with the wonder and awe that the Frost Giants lacked in his presence.

The hide curtain fell back into place long after Thor willed himself to blink and swallow the dry lump lodged within his throat, the young maiden, far too young for marriage or thoughts of the sort, stole his breath away. His eyes hungered for the sight of the child-maiden whilst his heart pulled, yearning for the nearness of the child-maiden – he took to his white stallion, Unda, and beckoned the stallion to fly, they flew high overhead, over Asgard's main avenue where the good citizens threw flower petals and wreaths upon the Frost Giants' stone carriage, beasts alike that never seen beyond the palaces painted inner chambers pulled the stone caravan along. Amidst the cheers and joyous well-wishers, the face of the child-maiden flashed to and from behind the curtain, as if she were shyly evading the public eye and was still curious of her surroundings, Thor's brow crinkled as a flower garland landed inside the carriage she occupied, he witnessed as she held the garland delicately up to her tiny nose and her fingers softly tickled the white blossoms.

A small symphony followed the envoy by foot, never losing their place or souring a note, Unda flew on, the stallion's white wings beating against the calm breeze blowing from Odin's watchtower set in the midst of the Gods' palace – Thor instinctively _chased_ onward, he himself felt more than ever drawn to the carriage at the end, just behind the much more seemingly lavish one obviously meant for King Laufey and his many daughters. Thor had never seen royalty, much less a Princess of foreign Realms, and so he landed Unda upon a perch at the palace's footsteps, where his mother Frigga's garden grew fruitful and lush, he slid off the saddle from Unda's back and raced toward the garden's ungated border, the stone carriage halted, Thor drew in a deep breath at the sight of King Laufey whom stood nearly eight times his height. King Laufey's icy eyes bore into his own, as if searching his mind for a deceptive thought, Thor only puffed up his chest, jutted out his chin and stared unblinking through his slitted eyes, challenging the Frost Giant King – suddenly, King Laufey bowed down low and then continued on into the garden. Without the same courtesy, the Royal Giantesses followed, and instead of bowing as their father had, they dropped their fur coats unto Thor's tiny form as they followed after their father.

“Hey!” Thor shouted from beneath the pile, no Frost Giant paid him any mind nor attention, they continued on as if he were simply a servant of Odin's palace, his arms flailing within the confines of the heavy leather and fur coats, Thor slashed in blind fury as he shouted, “You damned Jotun Frost wenches are no match for-!”

“I told you, Baldr! Nothing good can come of Frost Giants within our gates!” Thor fought his way out from the tangled bottom pile of the massive heavy leather coats, snarling and red-faced, he pivoted around in search of a target to take his frustrations out on, “Come out! Fight me like an Asgardian!”

“They are gone, your Magnificence,” Heimdall answered at his side, Thor alas allowed his sword to fall, being that he had run out of strength fighting the tangled hides of dead beasts – his berserker-crazed battle-ready expression fell at Heimdall's dry admission, “Running scared from your bravado, of course.”

Loki stayed within the carriage, his wet-nurse Ein having been called to hold up the fur train of King Laufey's eldest daughter, the leather dress was obscenely _long_ and dreadfully _heavy,_ so much so that Loki watched from a tiny crack in the caravan's window of her laborious process in hauling along the skirts edge – Loki decided to spare himself the sting of guilt by observing his clothes: the tunic seemed as if it were made for a child four-fold his own age and height, Ein made do with the too wide waist by tying an embroidered cloth about his hips and mid-section, the long-sleeved epaulette reached down to his knees, he wore a short emerald cape which sported the same golden embroidery adorning the neck and shoulders of his roomy tunic. His fingers touched the tiny clear crystals that Ein had quickly sewn into the edges of the lace swatch of cloth, it was see-through enough that Loki could easily navigate and avoid bumping into objects, yet it was so overtly _feminine_ that he winced at the thought of adorning his head with the 'veil of obscurity and unimportance'.

'What if I am made a fool of? Or what if I am mistaken for one of my sisters?' Loki thought, before he could complete his self-assessment, a tiny silver wisp entered the caravan on delicate silver wings – the beating of the tiny beast's wings sounded as if the air were made of silver bells – Loki instinctively reached and felt six needle-like legs touch upon his fingers before taking flight once more, he had never seen the likes of a delicate beast as gentle and seemingly carefree as a mother's warm breath. He followed, quickly pulling the lace veil over his head, his legs found footing upon the stone steps which led him out into Asgard's roads, he frolicked after the winged beast giggling and uncaring of the business commencing in Frigga's garden:

“Ah, King Laufey...your daughters are very-” Frigga strode up and down upon a platform so that she could stand chest-height with the long line of prospective Giantesses in her garden, each curtsied and giggled as the Goddess' eyes passed over their forms, one more fanciful than the last; Frigga took note of each Giantess, some held very noble features, others bore the air of fertility by the telling size of their breasts or the width of their hips, and all towered over Frigga by two-fold and nearly a third of her height, she smiled kindly to King Laufey whom escorted her up and down the long line of foreign Princesses, “-Strapping.”

“Why, Empress Frigga, your generosity is far too encompassing,” King Laufey politely lowered his voice so that he may sound less invested in the dowry and allowing an inkling of interest to cover his feigned concern for his daughters, “Mayhap your sons escort my daughters to the banquet? Though my daughters are _comely_ , they do lack a sense of direction...”

Alas, Loki bumped straight into Baldr's leg as the God strode through the garden from the palace's side-entrance, before he could fall unto his rump and look foolish even further, the God's arms wrapped around his tiny form and righted him – an illumination brighter than that from Asgard's palace nearly blinded Loki as Baldr knelt upon one knee and dusted off Loki's royal tunic, he stood in awe of a kindness he had never felt aside from Ein – the God's resplendent voice sounded as if it were a harmonious duet between a high-toned flute and the soothing bray of an enormous battle-horn, “Caution, little maiden. Your beauty shan't be spoilt by mote or bruise, my sweet.”

Baldr took painstaking care to right the white veil and further brushed away small debris from Loki's boots and tiny bare hands, he mumbled a hasty, “Apologies, m'lord. My gratitude, m'lord.”

A heat unlike any other consumed Thor's mind as he witnessed the filthy little beggar of a _girl_ fall unwittingly into Baldr's arms or the fact that Baldr dismissed dirtying his own pale blue tunic in favor of cleaning the foreign _girl's_ clothing – he felt as if his ears would steam from anger and set his hair on fire, so he stomped through his mother's flowers as he made a bee-line towards Baldr and the tiny girl in the ill-fitting green dress, the girl's face obscured by a long white veil:   
  
“Apparently, all girls except Sif lack refinement also,” he ran at full speed, kicking up dust as the girl's veil turned towards his trampling form, “Aye! You there-!”   
  
“Stop!” Loki started at the sight of the squire-boy he had previously seen at the Bifrost gates' stronghold, his short legs carried him as he ran blindly through the garden, especially whilst the squire yelled at his very heel, “Halt in the name of Odinson-!”

Once more, Prince Loki nearly fell into the glorious skirts of another, fearing that it would be those of one of his elder sisters, he halted and awaited a beating or an ear-splitting of the age, his eyes grew hot with the weight of unshed tears:

“And who might this pretty wee thing be?” came another voice, and yet this one in particular lacked the shrillness of disgust or the hiss signaling the speaker's apparent disapproval – a soft hand reached beneath his chin as a long arm came up beneath his waist and hauled his tiny body upward – Loki saw the heavenly face of Asgard's Goddess mother, she lifted the edge of his veil, “Come, child, let me see you.”

“Why, King Laufey, you never did mention _this_ little princess,” her eyes widened and suddenly softened as if she were expressing the warmth of her love unto Prince Loki, and instantly, Loki took to her voice and motherly temperament, she asked, “How old are you, little princess?”

Sensing all eyes upon him, Loki flushed and glanced aside from the Goddess Frigga's soft gaze, he said meekly, “One-fifteenth an age (nearly 7 in Midgard years) from adulthood, your highness.”

“Ah, but you see, Empress Frigga, my most precious daughter's late mother-” King Laufey interjected just as Loki expected, he silently took his father's words as truth and further fought back the tears at the mention of his mother, “-she was a Mortal of no consequence.”

Frigga once more held a finger beneath Prince Loki's tiny chin, coaxing him to meet her gaze, and he instantly found himself uncaring of his father's harsh words, he managed not to wince at the sight of the blonde squire whom narrowed his blue eyes at him.

“Such fine and noble features are alit upon a face so innocuous, as bright and young as a newly birthed star. So that explains her-” Prince Loki gradually grew aware of Frigga's sentiments, he blushed at her careful description of his appearance, “-delicate features?”

“Tragically, indeed! Quite so, your majesty,” King Laufey easily succeeded to look as if he remotely pitied Prince Loki's so-called 'plight', the next few words seemed as if to flow straight from King Laufey's cold heart in the hopes of tarnishing Prince Loki's fragile chances at freedom, “She is likely not one that your sons may take favor to. A soothsayer once foretold of her barren state, and we, wallowing in all pity for her ailment, could not find a cure in all the Nine Realms.”

“Truly?” Frigga asked, she idly curled a black lock about her forefinger and marveled of the softness.

“Yes, your majesty, she has a very short life-expectancy, being that her mother had died only half way through her hundredth Jotun season,” King Laufey continued, once glaring at Loki once their eyes met amidst Goddess Frigga's ignorance, “She should have lived at most a forth-fold, and more I was to imagine.”

“So this little princess is barren?” Loki felt his chances fall significantly at Goddess Frigga's question, his heart hit the floor from her second inquiry of his health, “Also mortal?”

Seeking a form of distraction, he saw Ein apparently worried as she looked on upon his form clasped against Frigga's - Prince Loki then caught the squire-boy openly staring at him, the boy's critical blue eyes losing all the heat of anger and taking on a much softer appearance – did the squire-boy _pity_ Loki?

“Not quite, but never the less vulnerable to mortal ailments if she is not taken of proper and steadfast care. She nearly took to a relentless malady upon her first Jotun season, it was only through love and faith that she ever quelled the illness,” King Laufey farther besmirched Loki's condition as a prospective Princess-in-waiting – Prince Loki did in fact remember the illness and the fact that it was Ein whom nursed him back to health whilst his sisters yelled death-threats – coming to, he alas knew how little his father sacrificed for his sake, he knew then that his father would barter his insignificant life for the dirty snout of a dead beast, “We would not want to burden your sons with a frail wife, now should we?”

“Frail and delicate as she may be, it is Balder or Thor whom is to marry, not I, King Laufey,” Frigga's polite answer drew Prince Loki from the squire-boy's eyes, he stared at the mother Goddess holding his tiny form, she asked softly, “Pray tell, Princess, what pretty sound summons thy beautiful self?”   
  
“Loki,” he gulped, he then glanced from King Laufey's disapproving glare to the squire-boy's surprised blinking, “ _Princess_ Loki, your Grace.”

“Such an unusual name for such a sweet wee thing,” Prince Loki easily melted into Frigga's warm embrace, he admired her affectionateness and her sweet scent, he could not bring himself to care if everyone but the Asgardians knew that he was in fact a _Prince_ of Jotunheim, she declared to his complete surprise, “I shall have this little Princess under my watch during your stay, King Laufey.”   
  
“Y-your Excellency-,” King Laufey stuttered, his eyes passing from Goddess Frigga to Prince Loki whom was held aloft still, “I should know that-”   
  
“My word is final, King Laufey. The Princess stays here in Asgard whether she is 'fragile' or 'incapable' and suffering the curse of everlasting childlessness,” with bated breath, all those around heard Frigga's final decree, none refuted her decision – for one, thusly, they were rid of the hated Jotun Prince and the second, they had as of yet to find favor within any of the _Asgardian's_ eyes as a potential candidate for an Odinson's hand, “We, Asgardians, have our own way to deal with such trivial matters of mortality.”

“As you wish, your Grace,” King Laufey's voice returned, each let out a breath.

“Then it is settled,” Frigga smiled as if she had received a most precious gift, she smoothed away a lock which had curled against Prince Loki's brow – she then eyed each Giantess and King Laufey as if silently challenging one to sway her edict, “Princess Loki is henceforth under my sole protection, if you have any _other_ objections upon the matter, King Laufey.”   
  
“Oh, gracious Goddess Frigga, it would be an absolute honor,” King Laufey bowed as low as manageable without a single break in vocal cadence to uncover his ire for Prince Loki's well-disposed fortune, Loki caught his father's accusatory glare and the poisonous mockery made of his given title, “Were are your manners? Show your beloved Goddess appreciation, _Princess_.”

Frigga gently let Prince Loki down unto the platform where he stood sheepishly, his toes turned inward and knees wobbling, his ears picked up the sound of a malicious giggle from an elder sister – though shamed beyond words and actions, he willed himself to demonstrate a perfect curtsey as if he were imitating the action of a _proper_ Princess, before bowing to his lowest as he delicately pinched the shin-high flaps of his green tunic, Prince Loki glanced up from the floor and witnessed the squire-boy sheathing the sword upon his belt – feeling his role forever secured in the minds of the Asgardians, Prince Loki submitted himself wholly as a Jotun _Princess_ to the Asgardian Gods.

“I, _Princess_ _Loki_ , am nothing without your guidance and council, your Grace,” he spoke softly, his voice high and sweet as a maiden's – Loki's cheeks burned as even more of his sisters took to jeering wordlessly of his mispronounced title, “My vow to this realm and to you is that I will be no trouble, and that I will serve Asgard as best suited to its needs.”

“Poetry to my ears, Princess Loki,” Goddess Frigga clapped politely at Prince Loki's show of his superior courtly manners, she took from her side a bundle of scarlet, “I will have needs of your talent with words yet, little Princess.”

“Thor? My wonderful and well-behaved son?” to everyone but King Laufey's surprise, the squire-boy came jogging from behind Frigga and adorned the scarlet tunic and the short cape – the Royal Giantesses each hid their face as the young _God_ Thor looked upon each guilty face and made them remember their earlier rudeness – Frigga then said whilst she pushed Thor upon the still-prostrate form of Prince Loki, “Kindly escort Princess Loki to aunt Idun.”

Thor wrinkled his brow at the thought of escorting the revealed Jotunheim Frost _Giant_ , and undoubtedly _beautiful_ Princess Loki, yet, he knew that he liked the task better than escorting the fully grown Giantesses around Asgard, which seemed a duty twice as troublesome.

“Yes, mother,” Thor answered, he took Princess Loki's small delicate hand in his own and guided her tiny form to stand, he mourned the loss of watching her cheeks grow a bloom of heat as did all maidens at the prospect of touching Thor, and yet he took a small satisfaction in watching her lower lip quiver and being bitten – he led her onward and growled, “Come along, Princess. We needn't an elderly Giantess to wed us Odinsons. Outsiders would flee the sight of us celebrating our wedding vows afore they're spoken.”

“Fool-!” King Laufey's voice thundered behind the retreating form of the young God Thor and Prince Loki – seeing all eyes trained upon him, he quickly and smoothly recovered, “-ish me. We do seem a bit famished since we had not eaten for ages.”

Frigga's eyebrow rose in question, Baldr strode unto the platform, a light glowed from his skin and further lit each Giantesses' face – previous thoughts of impending doom was instantly replaced by vivid thoughts of love for the God Baldr and his masculine beauty – he possessed long flowing hair which reached well past his waist in lush waves of pale gold, his blue eyes glowed as he looked upon each Princess, his shapely lips stretched as he uttered a deep and rapt laugh alike that of a mischievous songbird, he stood taller than his mother Frigga and strode a confident gait, Baldr's pale blue tunic shone as glossy as his high boots. None was immune to the spell of his male exquisiteness, King Laufey even had to turn away before Baldr could pull the Giant King further in love, yet the God seemed unaffected by the Giantesses clamoring for his hand.

“Oh, allow me-” far too polite for his own good, Baldr took each massive hand softly into his own before kissing the trembling blue limb and taking another thrust into his face, Frigga patiently awaited whilst Baldr painstakingly welcomed _each_ and _every_ Princess, “Princess, welcome. Princess, welcome. Princess, welcome-”

From up high atop a knoll, Thor smirked at the sight of his elder brother Baldr being overrun with enticed Giantesses, he then looked upon the slighter form of Princess Loki at his side whom did not pose a single threat nor a single trouble – and he found that he preferred Princess Loki to all her sisters, even the most comely of the herd.


	4. A Godling's Kindness

The entirety of Asgard was warm, almost enough that Prince Loki forgot the dulled pain in his cheeks where he had previously wiped away the blood of the wound inflicted by his father King Laufey – and yet, the young Godling Thor's hand held the most heat of any object that he had ever known, paling against even the most fiercest fires made in all of Jotunheim, so he clung to Thor's hand which wrapped around his own and wordlessly followed after the Godling's lean form. Further they ventured, further than Loki had ever been allowed to go on his own, through a winding trail made by many small feet, fluffy seedlings caught unto Loki's trousers and tickled the inside of his fur-lined boots, yet he did in his own way come to instantly love the sympathetic wilds of Asgard; every color beheld a beauty all it's own, whereas in Jotunheim were the dull grays and muted blues foretelling shadow and ice. Warmth and differing textures made Loki's senses dance, his heart flutter up to his lungs as did the tiny silver beasts flying about, and within the towering forests came ever abundantly the winged beasts unlike any he had seen before up until then – Thor simply fanned the beasts away whilst they levitated towards Prince Loki's welcoming form the most, not long after, four young Godlings met with Thor and Prince Loki whom were trudging up a knoll in search of Idun:

“Strange...” Thor said as they came upon a clearing betwixt the forms of thriving orchards and curling roots, he led Prince Loki along the chest-high grass, he leapt atop a single stone and searched all around, “Aunt Idun is usually around here...somewhere.”

Free from Thor's guiding hand, Prince Loki looked at each young Godling whom encircled his lone Mortal form, Fandral's agile hand drew away a blood droplet from his white cheek and dabbed the other, Loki flushed for he had never been touched so much by hands other than his wet-nurse Ein.

“You don't talk very much, do you, Princess?” Fandral, a soft-spoken Godling dressed in a squire's fitted garb knelt down to Prince Loki's height – his spirited gestures affirmed of his lineage as a warrior's trainee, “Do you Jotuns speak a different language? Maybe Elvish? Dwarvish?”

The young Goddess Sif, a seemingly boyish yet brave and a just developing her fair looks, she joined Thor atop the lookout point whilst Volstagg, a husky axe-weilding Godling prodded the finely woven cloth of Prince Loki's tunic:

“Giant-ish?” Volstagg gruffly asked, “Troll-ish?”

“Those are not languages, Volstagg,” Hogun joined, Prince Loki peeped beneath from the cover of the veil a handsome young Godling, apparently a sword-smith's trainee by the two short-swords upon the Godling's thighs, “Education of the Nine Realms never was your strongest suit, I suppose.”

“Great songs will be sung of my notoriety. I do love me a good spar,” Volstagg barked a laugh, everyone but Prince Loki emitted their laughter, for he found that even the slightest movement of his face caused the twin punctures upon his cheek to bite – to his complete loss, Volstagg asked, “And you, Princess? Do you wield weapons of any sort?”

Met by his pained silence, the Godlings encircled Prince Loki's lone tiny form, they muttered to each other, “Maybe she's lovestruck?”

“Perhaps the Princess is feeling under the weather?”

“It can't be, only _females_ get that way!” 

“The only female I know is my own _mother_!”

“Being cooped all day in the stables does that to a warrior.”

“What do you know of _being_ a warrior?” 

“I know more fight in a shoeless beast's _foot_ than you posing a threat!” 

“Maybe she's-” Thor turned round and round, he alas spotted a light in the distance – he jumped down from the stone and took Prince Loki's small hand within his own once more, the four young Godlings followed after to the light source – Idun's long red hair lay braided with delicate flowering vines which curled wildly about the tall grass, dew glistened upon her gray silken dress and her bare feet, she held an empty basket against her lounging form as the young Godlings approached, Thor held out his empty left hand and said, “Aunt Idun, apples. Now.”

“Do not call unto me as if I were a servant, ungrateful spawn of my sister's – lest you'd enjoy being my servant for the day,” Idun's green eyes surveyed each young Godling – gracefully, she rose up upon her knees and waved her hand to the golden tree which she lay beneath its shade, two golden apples descended from inside the lush tree and landed softly within her basket, catching Prince Loki's evasive form peeping out behind her nephew Thor's back – she waved a finger to Prince Loki and asked softly, “And whom may this tiny lass be? A pretty elf? A tall dwarf? A shy sprite? A miserable spirit?” 

“Princess Loki, daughter of King Laufey, last in line of Jotunheim's kingdom. I doubt King Laufey will ever get his gigantic bottom off the throne for any of his daughters to succeed him,” Thor pulled Prince Loki out away from the cover of his scarlet cape, he gleefully watched the tiny Jotun Prince's lower lip tremble, he then reached the two apples from the basket not before they were snatched away by Idun's protective hand, Thor said, “This poor Giantess is the _least_ eligible to wed, and my terrible luck for I am her escort.” 

“Whom ever said the female mystique could handle no harsh word shall watch Princess Loki take each terrible word of yours'. My...are you a wee thing? So tiny in fact that I have grown _fruit_ bigger than you,” though Idun held a high voice, she spoke plainly as if she were a natural-born God than a mild Goddess – she motioned for a pair of silver butterflies to lift the edge of Prince Loki's delicate veil, “Speak now, child. Is her tongue made of lead?” 

His face completely exposed, Prince Loki bechanced a furtive glance at the stunning Goddess Idun, he answered meekly, “Just my shoulders, Mistress Idun, from the weight of expectation.” 

“Clever child. Though I cannot say so of my nephew Thor,” the Goddess Idun giggled, her voice dipping low as she lazily lounged back over the lush bed of moss and bright flowers where she formerly lay, she smiled at the sight of the blushing young Godlings whom could no longer hold her gaze, “At times his will to enact before consulting his mind ever does continue to surprise me in my advanced age.” 

“You've had your fun, auntie. Now, I need one of your special apples to cure this sickly Princess of her mortality,” Thor whined, which earned him a pinch to the cheek for his rudeness – Idun hummed whilst Thor worked up the courage to ask, “Please?”

“As you wish, nephew,” Idun allowed Thor access to the two apples, she motioned the pair of silver butterflies back from Prince Loki's veil, she instructed before continuing on in her mid-noon nap, “Have the Princess eat two. Slowly, lest she reverts back into a babe and then where shall we be swaddling an infant Princess? Understood?”

“Aye,” Thor took both magical apples within the safe confines of his cloak, he wrapped his long fingers about Prince Loki's smaller hand and searched the clearing for the four young Godlings, upon spying Volstagg's hasty gait, he shouted over the noisy din of the busy bees and the soft rustling of wind upon the meadow of tall grass, “Where're you all off to? This is the first time in _ages_ that I’ve been given an _entire_ day study-free.”

“Thor-” Volstagg hollered at the bottom of the knoll, he shouted, “Our mothers call, it's time for repast! We'll converge again tomorrow!”

“Volstagg never forgets his meals,” Thor's strides slowed, he watched Princess Loki out of the corner of his eye and found his cheeks growing hot from just watching, he led Prince Loki to the foot of a towering archway where veins of water levitated over Frigga's garden, he sat down cross-legged and pulled Loki down until he was seated upon Thor's lap, he pulled out an apple and explained quickly, “One apple now, and the other when we get back to the palace.”

“I-” Prince Loki found the young God Thor's kindness by far exceeding what he had previously expected, and so he broke the silence he held aptly for the stinging pain within his cheeks, he uttered each syllable through the scalding pinches within his cheeks, “My apologies if I have inconvenienced you, your Magnificence.”

“Don't 'magnificence' me,” Loki heard Thor scoff at the polite way he addressed the young God, he watched from the bottom of the veil as Thor carefully cut bite-sized wedges out of the magic apple, his shoulders stiffened for fear of being admonished, “It's Thor. Simply Thor.”

“My apologies-” Prince Loki ignored the twin bite of pain which radiated hotly about his face, sensing the accompanying silence as if the young God awaited another offensive title be verbally bestowed, Loki swallowed the polite courtly titles and said, “-Thor.” 

“Here,” satisfied, the young God Thor nodded next to his head, Prince Loki reached for the apple wedge offered, yet was once more caught in the wrong as Thor said sternly, “No Mortal hand may touch aunt Idun's apples, or the apples will sour and lose their magic.”

It was not as if a Princess could not eat a magical apple unsupervised, Thor simply relished the thought of being _needed_ and took the task upon himself to feed the Princess, he wished to be of use and took full advantage the Jotun Royal's ignorance – and as expected, Princess Loki leaned toward his offering hand and gently nibbled at the crisp sweetness alike a gracious rabbit, once done, Thor allowed Princess Loki to wrap her tiny fingers about his forearm to stabilize herself whilst she fed from his hand.

“Don't touch the water!” Thor hissed at the sight of Princess Loki reaching up to the sparkling webwork of clear water, he knew how much she feared _displeasing_ him and so Thor swept a hand through the air, gathering the bubbles of moisture within his cupped hand, he held his hand up to Princess Loki's lips and bid softly, “Slow sips, small bites, Princess.”

Hesitantly at first, Thor's heart fluttered at the sight of Princess Loki delicately pursing her red lips and suckling the water from his hand, remaining steady was a challenge being that Thor wanted as much to lift her veil and watch her face change expressions, to see her wide eyes brighten at the taste of the honeyed water held to her lips – a low hum escaped his throat as she once more held his wrist in her gentle grip as she drank her fill – noon continued on idly, with Thor feeding the needy little Princess Loki and being helpless for he knew that he was falling deeper under her spell.

“Princess,” Thor roused the napping Princess whom clutched to his form whilst she slept unbeknownst of Asgard's fading light – she raised her arms sleepily and yawned from beneath the cover of his cape, “Your family must be worried of your absence.”

Thor straightened to his full height before he brought her to stand on her own, he looked upon her as the desolation in her voice reached him, “And you, Thor?”

“I'm here with you, Princess,” Thor answered, he took her hand in his own and led her through the vast side-entrance of the palace, a small army of attendants awaited their arrival and were directed to the great dining hall, Thor's sharp hunger pains disappeared at the sight he beheld alongside Princess Loki:

“Thor! Brother!” Baldr laughed merrily whilst the many Royal Giantesses leered at the appearance of their youngest sibling Prince Loki, their vast bodies lay sprawled amidst crushed foods and tangled nests of bone – Thor dared not venture any further into the mess, he only made a disgusted face as Baldr sat at a roaring fire and tended the empty spit, “Your company was missed. These lovely Giantesses were just-”

Giggles answered Baldr's statement, Thor only looked from the enmeshed blue limbs to the single Princess whom stood demurely at his right side, his face snapped from Princess Loki's tightly-clasped lips to Baldr whom asked from across the packed hall, “-inquiring of your status of bachelorhood. Any answers?”

Try as he may, Thor could not find a single redeeming facet of the Giantess Princesses – he found that he could ignore a female's excessive hair, the tendency to make messes instead of cleaning up, the ability to out-drink even the hardiest of Troll-folk, even the exoticism of blue skin...which is a total and complete _lie_!

“Does it seem odd, Princesses, to ask a God...a _ninth_ (11 Midgardian years  & Baldr is nearing 20) of an age...” Thor looked upon each face that softened from his inquiring gaze, none seemed to find fault within their own logic of seducing a God too young to entertain thoughts of marriage, that which disgusted Thor by far, he unknowingly clasped Princess Loki's hands a little tighter from his own disgust, he found some Giantess Princesses whom were nearer to his own age and yet could not fathom ever willingly taking their hand for an eternity – Thor enunciated each sickened word, “...of not just of friendship or mayhap the weather or the prospect of his thoughts on acting a youth while said-God is still in his prime _youth_...”

A hush befell the great dining hall as each blue face took on the expression of consideration, Baldr merely took a sip of the honeyed berry wine and allowed the eldest Giantess Princess Roskava to stand and answer Thor's question:

“We can be whatever you wish of _us_ , your Grace,” a Giantess offside stood at the eldest Princess' beck, and her form instantly changed to that an exquisite Asgardian, her very beauty rivaling even Princess Loki's – Thor audibly gulped as her form came his way, “Anything at your disposal.”

“A pleasure to finally meet you, Thor Odinson,” she giggled, her white-blonde curls bouncing as her blue eyes danced, Thor suppressed a shudder at the touch of her soft hand upon his chin, she said, “My name is Jarnsaxa.”

“In such case: _silent_ and _invisible_ would most suit my needs,” Thor dismissed Princess Jarnsaxa's advances, he stepped back with Princess Loki still at his side, he let go as if burned, realization sunk in that he was indeed infatuated beyond all reason with the Princess Loki – he made a hasty retreat through the hall's exit, “Excuse me, fair...uh...Princesses...I'm to see a God...about a...dog.”

At that very moment, Princess Jarnsaxa could have gobbled Prince Loki whole if she did not fear ingesting the blood of his Fae mother alongside, the angelic image she previously projected melted back into that of an angry Giantess – she grabbed fistfuls of her straight black hair and screamed in Prince Loki's face – Prince Loki in turn merely breathed away the spray of spittle that pelted his face, Princess Jarnsaxa stormed away, a good deal of the Jotun Princesses following after.

“Why, I've never-!” the eldest Princess Roskava pouted aloud against the thundering of the Giantess herd exiting the great dining hall, she made a grand show of marching after the same way a scorned lover does, “We'll see _ourselves_ to our rooms!”

“Please, maidens fairest of my eye! I beg you all-” Baldr stood quickly, the thundering stopped, numerous eyes attached to faces appeared one by one at the door as he pleaded gently with the hot-tempered Princesses, “Do not judge my baby brother too harshly, he is still...adjusting to your...hospitable beauty.”

Love-stricken sighs erupted from the Giantesses, Prince Loki squeezed himself into an innermost corner and feigned ignorance of the happenings – his cheeks grew hot from the heavy scent of desire emanating from his elder sisters, so as to not be seen, he quietly inched away whilst all eyes were still trained on Baldr whom glowed from expectation.

“You don't suppose, beautiful Baldr, most comely and cloying of all that is glorious-” Princess Roskava looked down at Baldr's smaller form, her eyes batting and lips working against the knot of carnal lust etched deeply into all their souls for the handsome God – her voice dipped alike a forgiven lover's to their beloved, “-if you do say, we cannot hold a grudge to your most honored little brother. We forgive him.”

The missing glow from Baldr restored, the entire dining hall lit merely from his happiness upon the subject – each Giantess blew his smiling face a kiss before making their graceful exit.

“Anon! Anon, my kind guests,” Baldr shouted after the Princesses retreating forms, “I bid you all a good night and well rests!”

Prince Loki counted the vast thundering steps which reverberated throughout Asgard's palace, he let out a breath and finally went in search of a clean kerchief within the filthy piles of discarded foods.

“Oh, hello, Princess?” Baldr greeted Prince Loki, he nearly dropped dish full of cleaned bones unto Baldr's feet before he was righted once more, he endured the God's gentle handling of his body and found that he could not bear staring straight at the God's glory – Baldr whisked Prince Loki to padded seat near the fireplace, he sucked in a breath as Baldr wiped away all traces of the spittle with his own personal kerchief, “Please allow me, nothing would honor me more than to be of some use.”

The _shame_ and _indignity_...of having a beautiful Odinson clean his half-mortal lesser form of his own elder sister's spit – Prince Loki wished that a hole would open up so that he could be clear of Baldr's conscious instead of needing to endure another kind of reputation-scarring disgrace, Baldr filled the silence with words of his own ordeal:

“Your sisters, oh upon Odin's one blind eye! I have not been able to get a single word in all evening and I am known to be quite talkative. Would you like to hear a poem? A poem you will hear, just for you I will compose one on this very spot-” Prince Loki had never known a single person aside from his own father King Laufey to be as talkative – his spirits lightened from the sheer happiness that Baldr seemed as if to infect him with, “Let's see...Ah!”

_She hath come, a pretty lone Princess_

_Her beauty known far and wide_

From the fireplace, Prince Loki lifted his veil whilst Baldr conjured an image of flames: a maiden stood within the flames, her long dress made of fire and smoke whilst her eyes sparkled from flying embers, she stood amidst a lump of burning coal.

_Her home kingdom under dire duress_

_A hero waited for his bride_

Her dancing silhouette disappeared only to be replaced by a riding warrior's form: the flickering fire foretold his sword slashing high above his sprinting mount unto a hail of arrows – Prince Loki sat entranced upon Baldr's lap whilst he softly narrated the play of fire and shadow.

_Frightened, the Princess sought her hero_

_And he, magically, fought_

Offside a nymph made of fire danced as the mighty hero produced a shield and gauntlets that wiped out oncoming enemies by the droves – Prince Loki leaned forward nearer to the flames, Baldr tightened his long arms about his smaller form and continued.

_For her honor he fought, to and fro_

_There alas, against the onslaught_

Enemies became ashes which burst into smoke as the mighty hero charged about the fiery battlegrounds, the dancing Princess stood offside, moving in slow sorrowful circles, as the battle neared its end, she spun faster and faster.

_The kingdom rejoiced in victory_

_And into his arms, the Princess flew_

From the ashes blazed a kingdom still elated of victory, the Princess darted from the farthest end of the fire unto the mighty hero's form, he spun her in a joyous embrace.

_Wed, both embraced inexplicably_

“For a quick, meaningless screw,” Thor scoffed, he eyed his elder brother's guilty smile and the clearly entranced face of Princess Loki whom looked as if she were enjoying the story, her wide blue eyes turned unto his own and he glanced away.

“Words do fly with a special kind of flavor from your lips indeed, Thor,” Baldr chuckled, he emitted still the last verse of the poem to Prince Loki's absolute delight, “ _Their love foretold throughout, through and through_.”

After much contemplation, Prince Loki found himself at a loss for the particular phrase that Thor had just used, he asked softly, “What is a 'screw'?”

“Your Grace, she is but a _child_!” Ein came rushing in, her skirts flying as she grabbed up Loki from Baldr whom politely managed to appear in the least embarrassed for the new word now stuck in Prince Loki's mind – Ein huffed and puffed, her cheeks inflamed as she said, “Come, Princess, bid your _too_ merciful hosts a good night.” 

“Thank you for your hospitality, your kind Magnificence-s',” Prince Loki stumbled slightly over his words, even dreading ever uttering a word afterward to Ein of his day.

“Oh, brother,” once alone, Thor pulled a chair to the fireplace, yet he was so restless that he could not find the will to sit down, he instead paced about the front of the chair, his arms folded about his chest and though he had no idea why he spoke so ill of the Princesses, the very image of Princess Loki within his elder brother's arms seemed so... _off_...Thor huffed exasperatedly, “Princesses are no fun. _Not_ _fun_ _at_ _all_ -” 

“What makes you think so highly of Princesses, baby brother?” Baldr held a knowing smile for he remembered the time even the slightest _shadow_ used to make his little brother uneasy, he also recalled how fond (as were all the Nine Realms of) he was of Baldr; his smile displeased Thor to the point of hair-pulling and misspoken swearing – folding a leg over the other and leaning toward the uneasy form of his little brother, Baldr asked slyly, “Could it be their beauty or their presence?” 

“Is that what you call those curtseying teetering abominations plotting our demise – a _Princess_?” Thor incredulously threw up his hands, sending his cape into the air and atop the unused chair, he kicked a broken platter into the flames and recounted how many ways he hated Jotun Giants, “They're rude, ungainly, deceptive, destructive...”

“By Odin's beard, you needn't hold back your _true_ feelings,” Thor found Baldr's expression and turn of phrase so off-putting that he nearly kicked the leg of the chair out from under his elder brother's pretty rump, he paused only a heartbeat, “I found the Princesses quite satisfactory, even charming – if one were to simply to look past their _own_ _ego_ and inclinations of heroism.”

“What you refer to as 'ego' is 'justified paranoia' to me,” Thor continued his restless pacing, he blew out a breath and asked his smug elder brother whom remained serene and unchanged throughout Thor's tantrum, “May I remind you of the time you proposed to a painted relief upon the dining hall's ceiling?”

“I do remember my first successful hunt and my first drink fondly,” Baldr grinned, eying the hide which graced the great dining hall's innermost rampart – he guessed that his little brother was deeply invested with the young Jotun Princess whom was clutched by Thor all too protectively, he asked softly in hopes of riling Thor's temper, “Are you still not taken with the Princess Loki you've been out with all noontide?” 

“No! Of course not!” Thor's voice rose to a loud squeak, he alas took a hard seat next to Baldr and slouched deeply as if he had carried all of Asgard's secrets the entire day – his voice becoming little more than a growl as he explained his actions, “She's got health alike a disease-mottled sapling. She's far too _delicate_ for my taste.”

“And sweet-tempered?” Baldr mused to himself just enough for Thor to hear – he knew that the Princess Loki would become a beauty even more legendary than any beheld by Asgard or the Nine Realms, he met Thor's eyes in question, “And innocent?” 

“And fragile, as if she had been hurt,” Thor's anger had melted into sympathy, he glared hard into the dancing flames and willed himself to ignore the future prospective husbands that Princess Loki would attract – he swallowed his self-pride and said quietly, “Too, too beautiful. I shudder to think that she'll spoil with any _other_ husband, though...”

The room seemed as if to freeze at Thor's tone, he brushed the hilt of his sword as if to slash away at those aiming to wrong the Princess Loki, “The slightest wicked hand upon her would surely break her. The smallest mutterings of debauchery is certain to poison her pure mind.”

Baldr listened quietly, he watched the storm of emotion bleed across Thor's young face, turning his soft features as hard as an angered warrior's, even for just an instant, Baldr saw Thor's profound devotion to Princess Loki:

“Unquestionably, any other would make a mockery of such a wondrous prize as Princess Loki...” Thor took on a different personality altogether when speaking of Princess Loki as if he were a battle-weary warrior whom fought and lost many wars, Baldr kept silent for he had grown to respect this particularly sincere aspect of his little brother – Thor's voice took on an unsure pitch as he sheepishly looked away from the flames unto the thoughtful face of his elder brother, “...which _is_ _not_ _I_. So, I'll only watch her from afar and shield her when needed. She needn't concern herself of divine foulness, lest she spoil her beauty from worry.”

“Would any other befit of Princess Loki's hand?” Baldr asked, his mind working upon all schemes to pull Thor to Princess Loki by any means possible – he feigned ignorance and verbally fanned the righteous fires within Thor, “And the body attached to said-hand, and the heart attached to said-body?”

Thor straightened so suddenly that the chair squeaked in response to his movement, words alike sour oaths dropped from his mouth, “You mean well, brother, I do so trust for your own sake that she is-”

“Baby brother, your enthusiasm is quite entertaining, and yet I'm honestly exhausted,” Baldr chuckled, uncurling himself and rising from the seat, he appreciated that his suspicious were confirmed that his little brother, Odin be praised, was truly in love – he clapped Thor upon the shoulder and uttered his farewell for the night, “Rest well, young Godling.”

“Rest well,” Thor answered softly, all signs of earlier hostility gone, he watched Baldr's retreating form and thought how _lucky_ his elder brother was to be the most favored Odinson and the most handsome all the same, for the first time in his entire life, Thor was envious of Baldr's masculine beauty.

He mused of how easily Baldr could strut into a congregation and come out with an _entire_ Realm at his feet vowing everlasting love; he strode along the palace's halls that thundered with the howling snores of Giantesses until he found one quiet and bright, he opened the door and silently padded up to the lush bed where Princess Loki lay whimpering and shaking, horrified, he shouted, “Mother, come quick!”

“Thor, what is the matter at this late hour?” 

“Princess Loki-!” unthinking, Thor grabbed up the little Princess into his arms, he cradled her sallow form and rocked her body, he shouted though his mother Frigga stood not two paces from his own, “She's dying-!”

“Please help her-!” Thor felt as if he would die if the Princess' health would not improve that very second, he shook her small body and hissed almost savagely, “Snap out of it! Away from the light-! Princess, I order you to live!”

“Thor, you are being of no aid. Keep the Princess company whilst I prepare a tincture,” Frigga said, she moved purposefully to an adjoining room and asked the harried wet-nurse whom fretted with the sick Princess, “-Ein, will you accompany me?”

“Yes, your Grace,” Ein pulled herself away from her charge, once well out of earshot, she explained to the Goddess Frigga, “I am afraid that the Princess Loki has run afoul in the eyes of her sisters, for she has taken up the favor of your youngest.”

Frigga kept onward silently, she fumed and _hated_ the idea that the sweet little Princess' elder sisters would _harm_ a defenseless being as herself – yet, she found solace that judgment would come when Baldr or Thor are properly wedded to one of King Laufey's wicked daughters.

“Princess? Can you hear me?” Thor whispered to Princess Loki's unresponsive self, he softly touched her hot cheeks where he was pricked by something lodged beneath her skin – upon further investigation, Thor pulled a black thread with many thin roots from Princess Loki's cheek, he endured the cutting burn of pain as he pulled out more and more threads from Princess Loki's face, her breathing became easier as he finally teased out the last black root – he chuckled to himself, “Look at me. Son of Odin, second God to succeed Odin, talking to a half-dead Princess-in-waiting...” 

Diligently, Thor watched her face for signs of recognition and found not a single twitch of her eyelid, in doing so, he thought to himself of how much in pain she was for enduring a poisonous curse, he recalled her earlier question. 

“A 'screw' is...” Thor began, he tried his best to sum up the word as neatly as possible and could only speak of the topic which his mother had forbidden of him, “...an act...between two beings...”

“When two beings love each other...” Thor swallowed the jumble of words which blocked his tongue, he did his best to reiterate exactly what Volstagg and Fandral had once told him in secrecy, “....when they are grown...and they love each other...well...”

“They turn out the lights within a room...and make funny noises...like two swine beasts fighting over a fruit...for an _entire_ night...” the explanation came out quickly, but he felt in the pit of his stomach all sorts of wrong – Thor wished he knew more upon the subject before he acted as if he were a learned student alike Hogun, “...that is a 'screw', as far as I understand...who knows what _actually_ goes on besides the strange roaring and such...?”

“A babe comes about one way or the other from the whole deal,” Thor wondered aloud why the subject was spoken about in hushed whispers rather than taught during battle studies, either way, it sounded far too taxing for his tastes – he gagged slightly, “I cannot imagine doing any of...ick...with your sisters...”

Not once did Princess Loki stir, Thor wrapped her tighter with a fur as he cradled her calmed body closer, he listened briefly to her soft inhalations and exhalations, her bird-like chest rose and fell rhythmically within his arms.

“You almost never speak, Princess Loki, and yet...I can bear an evening...simply staring at your veil...and listening to your breathing...” Thor stared, he felt a pull, a tug, his mind swimming at the sight of her beautiful face in complete unknowing bliss – he snapped up and laughed nervously, “...which is _strange_!”

“I like...” he indulged the ignorant silence with his words that none but the sleeping Princess would ever hear, Thor found himself concentrating on her long eyelashes, willing her to open her eyes and look upon him, “I admire your courtly manners, Princess Loki...you hold yourself differently than your sisters...and mother absolutely adores you...”

“You are far too kind...” her lips moved as did her eyelashes, she winced slightly perhaps from the aftereffects of pain, Thor nearly swallowed his tongue from surprise, “...Thor...”

“Understand me, anyone could have allowed you to die, yet I saved your life out of charity and goodwill, so in payment you are tasked to do _anything_ _I_ _will_ _of_ _you_ ,” partially true, Thor reasoned to himself that making Princess Loki obey his sole command would keep her safe, yet in the back of his mind, he knew it was an ugly lie and that he wanted her all to himself – his voice lowered so that only she could hear his decree, “Are my words clear, Princess Loki? You belong to _me_ and only to _me_. Actions and thoughts, you are _mine_.”

“As you wish, your Grace,” for the fleeting ghost of sadness that passed over Princess Loki's face, Thor hated himself – her blue eyes winced as she whispered her only request, “Unless I am allowed my chastity?”   
“Aye! Yes, I cannot do anything about your chastity, mayhap if it were pretty or valuable then I’d ask it of you,” Thor knew then that her sadness was his weakness, the slightest unease would be his downfall, he readily agreed with her terms so as not to bring about her haunted expression, “But everything else is mine to do and order as I please.”

“Do not worry, Thor,” his heart galloped at the sight of Princess Loki's smile, she absently brushed his arm and she mumbled as if sharing a secret, “I vow none will hear of your honesty.”

Prince Loki could no longer resist the pull of exhaustion, his eyelids slowly drifted shut as he murmured sleepily, “...and your kindness...your secret is safe...”

“Princess?” Thor's question roused Prince Loki from sleep, he hummed a weak 'hm?', “What is 'chastity'?”

“I am not sure...” Prince Loki yawned, he recalled the shouting matches between one of his elder sisters and his father – he answered, “It angers father when my sisters let theirs go, though...”

“Adulthood is strange,” Thor's voice followed Prince Loki down to the deepest depths of sleep, he simply hummed an affirmative and thanked the young Godling Thor for his undeserved kindness.

Beneath the bed, unnoticed and unseen, sat a golden apple, the magical flesh marred by a curse born from jealousy and nurtured by poisonous thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if i got a little lazy, the Warriors Three's + Sif just seemed to blend together - but more obstacles are to come for Loki & Thor...


	5. A Godling's Ire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i could feel the collective eye-roll from the last chapter...this chapter was supposed to be longer & chockfull of plot, but i decided to post now so as not to give any false pretenses of the story to ensue - so no, Loki isn't going to waltz prettily through Asgard & easily into Thor's bed...

The silver butterflies and busy golden bees of Idun's gardens followed Prince Loki into the realms of sleep: he dreamt vividly of another heavy noon surrounded by petals dancing in the wind, he shifted from his side unto his back and breathed the warm air, his tiny fingers reached out from his too-long sleeping tunic as did his short legs and he felt the tall grass part for his limbs, the cool limbs tickling his skin and wavhing high above his laying form, Asgard's glorious day soon melted into a deep night bare of stars – Prince Loki pulled one hand which lay rooted to the ground, the other lay stiffly at his side, panicked, he screamed.

Though his mouth opened, no sound emitted, a black liquid seeped from the very floors of Idun's once peaceful garden and seemed as if to reach within his mouth, unable to move or close his mouth, the liquid permeated his entire body, drying up his tongue and sapping his body of strength, the liquid squeezed his upper body tight, Loki fiercely kicked his legs to dislodge the liquid choking him of life, streaks of tears slid from his eyes as he thought to himself:

'Heavy...'

“What have you done to Princess Loki?” Thor hissed, he held a sword to Prince Loki's neck, “Have you eaten her, foul beast?”

'Foul Beast? Thor?'

Prince Loki moved slightly, which only made the Godling Thor angrier, he stilled as the sword's edge bit into his neck and he bled unto the rumpled pillow – alas pulled fully from sleep, Prince Loki could only stare wide-eyed at the Godling whom he had spent hours with the day prior.

“Answer me in the name of Odinson or I shall smite you where you cower, Jotun _monster_!” Prince Loki winced from the slur, he had always endured ever more awful names that his own elder sisters and Jotunns called him within earshot, he denied the image his eyes saw, the sensation his skin felt, the hatred in the Godling Thor's eyes where he had once seen kindness and perhaps adoration – Thor sat down harder upon Prince Loki's chest and roared, “Where is Princess Loki!?”

'I am Me! I am Loki! Can you not see!?'

Through the dry cloth in his mouth, Prince Loki mumbled desperately his claims, for which Thor ordered to hear and yet would not comprehend a single word.

Prince Loki recoiled from the sword which still sought out his neck, he whimpered uselessly beneath Thor whom seemingly relished playing cruel jokes on children, he dipped his young weary face to Prince Loki and asked, “The weak and the helpless suits your tastes, _monster_?”

“Are you weeping for the sword at your neck-?” unable to answer, Prince Loki merely held as still as possible, he merely watched whilst Thor raised the sword and hissed, “-perhaps the cause lies with the fact that I will have happily avenged my betrothed!”

Ein sprinted to Prince Loki's side and shielded his defenseless upper torso from Thor's blade, she screamed, “Your Grace! Thor! Yield, your Grace-!” 

“Away from me, wretched woman!” furious beyond reason, Thor pushed Ein with a single sweep, she fell unto a pile of unused cushions – Thor yanked a torn and bloodied sheet from beneath Prince Loki's body, he threw the soiled articles and snarled, “Are you blind to this abomination sleeping amongst Princess Loki's sheets!?”

At the sight of the ruined sheets, Prince Loki held up his hands, he saw that they were long-limbed and azure blue, his little fingers became blue talons tipped with black claws, and yet, he could not accept his current situation still, he kept a stunned silence beneath Thor's posed sword, awaiting the halt of his last breath.

“Have mercy, your Grace! He is a child whom does not know any better-! This is my son-!” Ein pleaded through profuse tears which poured steadily for Prince Loki's sake, she desperately made up a name an shrieked, “-Helblinde!”

A fierce hatred never seen outside of Asgard befell the young Godling Thor's face, Prince Loki took his very last breath and never once broke Ein's loving gaze; Thor stated heavily, “Very well, it is a _shame_ , Jotun monster, that I am a God whom gains no favors in slaying an unarmed and submitted Foe!”

Ein knelt at Thor's side, she kissed his hand gratefully over and over as he disembarked Prince Loki's elongated form, she simpered into Thor's hand, “You have my sincerest gratitude, your most generous and merciful Grace-”

“Only this once will I spare the life of your cowardly monster,” Thor pulled his hand from her gentle grasp, he looked upon her lowly form and unto Prince Loki whom curled up upon the bed at Thor's harsh words, “Keep him away from me! I dare'nt gaze upon his hideous face!”

'Was it not long ago that he thought I was beautiful?' Prince Loki's body shook from the bitter tremors born from tears and sadness, he buried his face in a blooded cushion away from the Godling Thor's palpable ire – all illusions of Asgard was shattered within his mind as he gradually came to accept his current state of waking.

“He will be practically invisible, your Grace,” Ein scurried feebly after Thor's retreating form, she trailed blood from the bed which Prince Loki still occupied – she lastly gripped the heel of Thor's boot as he stilled at the doorway and bowed her head lower, “I humbly and profusely give my wholehearted gratitude.”

“If ever you come upon me-” Thor's voice reached well beyond Ein's ears, it carried to Prince Loki and echoed throughout Asgard's halls, “-I will not hesitate to cut you down, Jotun Filth.”

“Leave here and never return,” never once bechancing Prince Loki the mercy of his warm gaze, Thor turned away and shouted, “Away with you and your _nefarious_ _cowardly_ _ugliness_!”


	6. Vili & Ve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as promised ....but since when did this become a whodunnit-mystery???

Prince Loki lay still, a hive upon his skin as he attempted to move from his singular spot, he stifled his tears within the blood-stained silk sheets and heavy furs – his second nature, which lurked always beneath his skin, was alas exposed, he heard a quiet: “He doesn't _deserve_ the Royal Jotun blood running through his veins...”

“Or the _beauty_ of his mother that he'd flaunted before us our entire lives...”

“ _Enough_!” Ein roared, she emitted all the fury and loss of an overprotective mother, she screamed for all the terrible words uttered against Prince Loki from whence the young Prince was but a babe nestled to Ein's breasts, when Prince Loki alas was able to crawl away lest he would be packed into the cave's dirt by a Royal foot, she hollered stoutly, “Enough! Haven't you done enough _already_!? Can you not let him be in peace as he had left _you_!?”

“Oh, Ein, if only you knew how much we hate him, perhaps then you would be all the more willing to help us alas be rid of him,” a low Jotun voice uttered from the doorway, she blinked her glowing eyes in the darkness to show her presence, she stepped into the faint ring of light which a hanging sconce leant feebly – her skin was as pale as Prince Loki's once was, he black hair trailed all the way down her back and unto the floor where it curled around her ankles alike a pool of snakes, the features upon her face changed gradually and yet seemed affixed with Loki's traits – she brushed a hand over her smaller frame and unto her cheek, proudly displaying her endowments as she spoke softly, “Though, we must thank whomever thought of this new torture.”

Ein's blood ran cold, her mouth opened and closed as she gazed upon the Royal Giantess whom no longer seemed Jotunn at all, she quickly threw a clean sheet over Prince Loki's denuded form and stepped in the Giantess' path – as if sensing the unasked question, the Giantess answered whilst brushing a hand over Ein's raised fist, “Did I not once say to that stupid little Godling I would ' _be whatever he wished of us'_?”

“So it was you!” Ein slapped the white hand away, she rushed over to Prince Loki and helped him to sit before she haphazardly plied his body with more sheets – she grimaced at the forms which came to stand beside the newly-turned Giantess, each more beautiful than the last, each wearing faces which changed features ever so slightly, each mimicking Prince Loki's expression and his fae beauty as if it were rightly their own – Ein threw a cushion at one's slender foot and hissed, “Snakes in the milk! Wolves in the pasture! Poisoned roots wearing a flowers' petals! All of you! You accursed _Fiends_! Temptresses! She- _Blackguards_!”

“You flatter us, Ein. We blush so fiercely from your compliments,” a small, seemingly young Giantess knelt to Ein's level, she mimed Prince Loki's innocence with a sweet sorrowful expression as she pouted, “Sadly, _none_ of us lifted a single hand to the mastermind behind his sudden... _condition_. Oh, woe are we, if only we knew...”

Upon hearing the dire news carried from her furious son, Frigga sat up from her seat at Odin's side within the throne room, she paced about the vast golden hall, concern etched upon her face, she alas stopped at Odin's standing form, his arms outspread to welcome her within his embrace and his unreadable face showing signs of a troubled mind.

“Frigga,” upon hearing her name uttered softly, she rushed into his embrace and wept silently within the cover of his shoulder and his long silver hair, Odin held her still as he said, “You needn't worry so of the missing Jotun Princess – she lives still.”

“Dry your eyes, wife, the Princess is safe,” Odin hushed and brushed Frigga's plaited hair.

Alas finding her bearings, Frigga knew instinctively why Odin behaved so calmly in the face of chaos within their palace walls, she asked, “What despicable die have you cast at the child Princess' expense, Odin?”

Frigga sensed a change in her husband Odin as he pulled away slightly, he answered evenly, “The odds are in our favor-”

“Isn't it _ever_?” Frigga spat, she drew away completely from Odin, she thought only of Princess Loki's disappearance for which Odin handled all too sedately, “The child Princess, what of _her_ odds escaping your gambling unscathed? Or have you not _foreseen_ her fate thus far?”

Though Odin would not lay an unkind hand upon his wife, he strode up to her and spoke low:

“By this time tomorrow, we shall entertain guests from all Realms, and they _expect_ to see a beautiful Princess far from her own wedding-age-!” as if knowing the implications, Frigga's temper fell only just a small degree, Odin as of yet has not revealed Princess Loki's whereabouts – Odin wearily paced away, he turned back to Frigga as he neared his throne, his long cape gathered around, he spoke the current state of matters which suggested of future turmoils, “Wife, her fate is in her own hands, she does not yearn for a carefree and provided life _bound_ eternally to an Odinson. Her _freedom_ , no matter how fleeting, holds the most dire importance.”

“So, you have made a very steep wager alongside King Laufey. How expected,” Frigga answered, she knew all too well of her husband Odin's and King Laufey's secretive dealings, “Do not be too sure of King Laufey's loyalty, he would stake all the Nine Realms in the hopes of harnessing the power of a single Infinity Stone.”

“My eye is always trained upon him,” Odin dismissed Frigga's suspicions, he knew of the exact extent which King Laufey would go in order to win a wager – dirty tricks and all – turning _Prince_ Loki into a form most-hated by Thor was one of those very tricks, he decided to keep the drama going along until the very last stake was won.

“Oh? You forget so easily that he had walked into our peaceful Realm with an army of wicked blackhearted kinswomen?” Frigga asked, her maternal instinct kicked at the last of Odin's remaining patience – and yet, he was weak in the face of his beloved's sorrow and justified anger, “Lest my accusations turn out false, I will still watch their every action until our sons are wed.”

“After all, husband-” she cast Odin's silent glare one last word of truth, “-it is I whom _sees_ what your blind eye cannot. Rest well.”

Alone for the night, Odin stepped down from the throne's platform to a side table, he motioned for an attendant to bring a small feast of roasted mutton shanks and a cask of strong ale, he was going to need his senses dulled for the next few days – the attendant set down three goblets and three cloth kerchiefs, Odin took a long sip before he spoke:

“Vili, Ve?” two forms flashed amidst the vast throne room's floor, Odin turned with two full goblets in hand for his brothers, he instructed, “Watch over the child. Be kind yet firm, for I put upon her shoulders the fate of Midgard.”

Both bowed and accepted the goblets of ale – Vili the tallest, pinched the goblet which grew to accommodate his entire hand and he drank heartily – Ve the cantankerous, swished the ale about his own goblet and scrutinized the warm bubbles at length, before alas, taking a very modest sip, he took great care in drying his long red beard as he scorned Vili's short beard which held most of the ale's foam.

“Aye, brother, the lass'll be kept 's if she were our own pupil. En't that right, Ve?” Vili, being the most jovial of the three, bumped an elbow at Ve whom looked as if he were a cat dunked into water only managed a somber nod, “Only 's long 's she herself's willing t'learn our craft.”

“I will provide for her every need, all that I ask of you, Vili and Ve, is that you instruct her in every subject that she wants to learn,” Odin refilled Vili's empty goblet, he then simply splashed a bit of foam over Ve's cup – he spoke at a whisper of Prince Loki lest there be hidden ears in the room's midst, “She has a very promising sorcerer's hand and a studious mind, all of which I cannot force her to use.”

Odin had foreseen Prince Loki's past, had watched Prince Loki in the present, and was bound by the rules King Laufey and himself had already put in place: Interference is only a small part of the wager.

“For all the fanfare and unflattery, Vili, Ve, her lineage suggests that she can be impelled if the situation best suits her needs-” Odin knew of Prince Loki's pain, and the dull embers of anger which would one day give way to a raging fire which Prince Loki would forge himself and use for either mischief or the will of goodness and honor, he continued through Vili's loud gulping and Ve's quiet sips, “-keep in mind that she is no ordinary pubescent Godling-”

“A catch. With you, Odin, there is _always_ a game to be played and a bet to be made. What of the lass? Is she a lonely temptress vying for a warm bed?” though Ve did not seem the type, he was in face a very studious God learning the will and ways to please the womenfolk of Asgard and the Nine Realms, a small glint in his bright green eyes told Odin of the hopes he wished of the mysterious guest they spoke of, “Perhaps a boorish elder priestess come to make a child?”

“Neither, brothers, something which begs further contemplation-” Odin caught the brewing thoughts streaming almost physically from Ve's mind, he stated with as much satisfaction as one could bear from revealing a scandalous fact, “She is a Jotunn.”

“Oh, wise brother o' ours, y'jest so easily-” Vili laughed heartily, slapping his thigh which sounded as if thunder had cracked sharply across Asgard's sky – with the singular snap of Odin's finger, Vili and Ve appeared back in their own modest home – there awaiting their presence was a very bloodied and very clothed form of their newly-revealed responsibility, the girl shook as they approached, she scrabbled and crashed over Ve's bookshelf where she curled up and whimpered.

Ve crossed his arms as he gazed upon his ruined tomes and scrolls now smeared with blood, he huffed beneath his neat beard and mustache, “Odin jests too harshly, Vili.”

Prince Loki grabbed the bloodied sheets to his still-naked form, thinking that all Asgardians shared Thor's views of Jotunns, he recoiled away from Vili whom attempted to welcome him, seeing Loki's unwillingness to approach either God, Vili asked in the lowest soothing tone he could muster, “So, lass, d'ya have a name which t'go by or does 'You, Lass' suffice?”

“My daughter is named Helblinde, M'lord,” Ein curtsied to both Gods Vili and Ve, they assessed her narrow hips and simply accepted her explanation of the Jotunn child whom cowered in the corner of their home.

Ve helped Ein unto her feet – Prince Loki felt the burn of the God's eyes upon him, and he knew how pitifully he looked in bloodied sheets with his black hair in a tangle about his face, Ve said, “No offense, missus, your Helblinde matches only half of any Helblinde I've heard of-”

Kindly, Vili pushed a filled vat of milk toward Prince Loki, a peace offering – a kind of hunger that he had not yet realized gripped Loki's stomach and his parched mouth, he took the vat in his arms and tipped the milk unto his mouth, he drank and drank the cow's share of milk until his stomach protruded – he wiped his mouth and hiccuped.

“Aye! Now that's how ya drain milk!” Vili's laugh boomed – all too quickly, Prince Loki found himself smiling shyly, his woes burning at the back of his mind for the time being, he allowed himself to revel within the jovial company whom accepted his newly-revealed Jotunn form – a herd of five milking cows appeared in the small pasture just outside of Vili and Ve's homestead, Vili lifted his own cup of milk to the word kept by their brother Odin, “Blessed brother Odin be praised!”


	7. Odin's Gathering

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, it's sad to say bye-bye to kid-Loki & kid-Thor...so more plot, more exposition - not because i hate writing kid-Loki & kid-Thor....we're just going to start dealing with more....mature stuff from chapter 8 on forward

Though Prince Loki's fortunes had taken a downward turn, Ein was called back to Odin's palace and back under the hated employ of the Royal Giantesses, apparently undertaking the odious task of refitting each Giantesses' wardrobe to suit their newly-formed bodies – Vili tried his best to be a gracious and welcoming host whilst Ve merely took to dividing the small feast of roasted mutton shanks that followed them home from Odin's palace, Vili easily stood three times Prince Loki's Jotun body and easily rivaled King Laufey's height, and so he took it upon himself to haul buckets of water from the well outside their cottage, he then lumbered along through a hall consisting of only two doors and yet he kept walking onward, soon the two doors and the ended wall became many doors more and a vast hall, he alas turned the left at the end and shouted through the stretched hall, “Helblinde! This here's yer room! Careful t'remember th' eighty-first door on th' left!”

At the sound of his false name and new identity, Prince Loki shifted slightly upon the corner he sat within, he watched as Ve took the smallest, most scrupulous shaved bites of mutton shank and combing out his flaming red beard after each bite was swallowed – Vili's towering form stopped before Prince Loki, his kindly voice lowered as he asked, “Why not come 'n eat, Helblinde? Ya nary a sprig o' life in ya from th' way ye be starin' at th' meat.”

“I cannot, m'lord,” Prince Loki shook his head and yet he accepted Vili's helping hand which pulled him to his feet, he felt his stomach give a half-hearted lurch in the small table's direction, still, he knew that his appetite was but a false guardian ordering his hands to obey its command and feed his weak body, “My stomach is too weak, I suppose.”

“Nonsense,” Ve spared Prince Loki's pitiful form a single sidelong glance, he nodded his chin at the steaming plate boasting a pair of mutton shanks and a heaping pile of hot potatoes, “Come, I’ve already set your dinnerware.”

As if in a nightmarish trance, Prince Loki sat upon an adult's chair just nearly perfect for his new height and size – Ve eyed him as he laid down a napkin atop the ruined bedsheets that still covered his obviously Jotunn body, he took up a fork and knife to Ve's approval and began cutting into the meal – all too suddenly, Vili began telling a grand tale of how he had once angered Odin for trying to win Frigga's maiden hand, which resulted in Odin knocking out five of Vili's teeth: two on top and three on bottom, on Vili's left side for which he favored his right for tearing into the mutton shanks.

“Well, I couldn't be angry at brother Odin forever, a God in love he was. Recitin' drivel that he so insisted was 'poetry' t' th' maiden Goddess Frigga. Words that could make a listener's ears bleed, yet she was always taken by his courtesy. His ' _aye_ , _m'lady_ ', ' _nay_ , _m'lady_ ', ' _gratitude_ , _m'lady_ ',” Vili then put on display the five empty spaces in his gums for Prince Loki, he instantly admonished himself for cracking a smile at Vili's expense, but the kindly God seemed to enjoy the attention so much that Prince Loki found himself giggling, Vili winked playfully, “It makes fer some very interestin' kisses, I tell ya.”

“ ' _Eel_ _out_ _of_ _it's_ _cave_ ' cannot hardly be the kind of interest womenfolk want,” Ve said, making a sour face as he slowly chewed the sheared mutton shank.

“En't that right? How'd ye know, Ve?” Prince Loki sat betwixt the two and so he glanced back and fourth throughout their familial exchange, he ate neatly and quickly to stifle the hunger which twisted his stomach in knots – after taking a hearty drag, Vili guffawed through his half-chewed mouthful of roast mutton and potato, “Did 'em _crystal_ _bollix_ tell ya? Wha' with all that wavin' n' chantin', ye done made yerself a magic lass out of _sygils_ n' _witch's_ _marrow_ n' _such_?”

“You see, Vili, this is _exactly_ why women don't ever come to our stead,” Ve grimaced, he threw down his silverware in a fit of rage that Prince Loki enjoyed guiltily.

“Why'd ya need me t' blame? They all know what'a lousy lover ye be already,” Vili blew out a breath which whistled through the prominent gap upon his left maw, he wiped his greasy hands on the tablecloth to Ve's dismay – both brothers turned their attention to Prince Loki whom sipped a bowl of honeyed milk, “Helblinde, ye bein' the lady o' this stead, what do womenfolk want?”

Prince Loki's cheeks darkened, he knew nothing of womenfolk or their desires, all he knew was his own, and because he was impersonating a fictitious Jotun pauper's daughter call Helblinde, he swallowed the double cheekfuls of milk blocking his answer and spoke:

“Kindness,” Prince Loki's words came out but a whisper for even he knew first hand how Gods when challenged, could hurt even one that they had once adored – Ve leaned forward over his plate as if hungering for the words of a young Jotunn's, Vili leaned his large chin over his hand and tilted his head thoughtfully, both awaited for Prince Loki to continue, “All womenfolk want kindness...and honesty.”

The Godling Thor's words echoed in Prince Loki's mind just then, every single syllable alike a spear twisted its wicked way into his heart, the walls seemed as if to breathe and close in the longer he sat amidst company, he stood suddenly from the table and bowed:

“Thank you, m'lords,” Prince Loki quickly blinked away the tears clinging to his lower eyelashes, he kept his voice even and composed, “The food was wonderful. Rest well.”

“Hildeblinde,” Vili's voice stopped Prince Loki's hasty retreat, the eighty-first door away from the two Gods was far enough, and yet Prince Loki wished he was given a room in soil instead of beautiful customary Asgardian accommodations, “Ye needn't be so formal, we're just simple Godfolk. Rest well, little one.”

The two Gods held the same warmth as Thor, in heart and in spirit, Prince Loki's tears betrayed his brave withdrawal from the situation, a lump formed within his throat, Loki had but the strength to simply nod acquiescence and drag his heavy feet to the eighty-first door on the left – as the door latch groaned behind his back, Loki pressed his ear to the oaken door.

“The poor girl,” Ve's quieted sympathies shook the last of Loki's sanity – even Ve's too clear dislike of Prince Loki's pitiful standing seemed equally as honest as Thor's ire of Prince Loki's exposed lineage, “She looks as if she had the ill luck leading King Laufey's army during the Great Battle.”

A splendid bath in a rough iron tub awaited Prince Loki, the layers held to his body fell, soiled shred by soiled shred until he stood nude in the private room, he gingerly stepped over the layers, afraid of staining his feet and legs even further, he went about rubbing away the remaining traces of his shame, even the heat of the water recoiled from the ice lodged in his heart – the final snarl picked from his hair and the last film of blood rinsed, Loki stepped out from the water and dried himself with a thick cotton sheet draped over the lip of the iron tub. Shirts of fine white linen lay folded atop a small wooden chest, he pulled one over his head and found it draping over his knees, a pair of soft sleeping trousers lay beneath which he donned quickly, as if by command, the tub rose up on its four iron legs and walked straight out of the room, Prince Loki flopped atop the single bed, too exhausted to show even the slightest amazement over the self-cleaning bath tub.

Every jarring detail of the day was etched into his mind, as if he would never escape the Godling Thor's words no matter how deeply into his own mind he escaped, there was not a single place which his cruelty left untouched, not a single corner within his mind left unscarred for he carried upon his body the evidence of what had ensued: the wound from Thor's sword. Prince Loki idly brushed the thin welt which stretched from his left collarbone up to the right side of his jawbone, the memory fresh and raw as he dug a fingernail and caused the slightly staunched blood to flow anew, the pain shot straight up his toes and ended at his head, a halo of heat sitting atop his head as he clapped a blue hand over his neck and breathed – compared to the day thusfar, one could almost mistake the sensation for a loving caress, Loki shut his eyes, closing himself off from the rest of Asgard whom knew nothing of his pain – heavy-hearted, his tear ducts dry and his neck pulsing, Loki mustered the will to whisper:

“Forces unknown, I beg you, upon the blood spilled by one dear to my heart, I beseech you-” every syllable burned a trail up Prince Loki's stomach, up his parched throat, between the spaces of his elongated Jotunn fangs, wrapping alike hot barbs around his pale tongue, burning the sharp prominence of his dark azure cupid's bow – the agony compared to Thor's easily worded curses were alike the gentle brushes of a butterfly's wings – tears slipped unnoticed from Prince Loki's glowing blue eyes, unto his stark azure skin and into the glossed black strands of his combed hair, yet he endured whilst his words gained strength and meaning, “-Injuries caused by love shall soothe aches caused by malice and wrath. Let cruelty's first wound be a lesson to one as such whom trusts too easily, cares too fiercely, and loves too impractically.”

“Wherefore should one soul suffer when I have forgiven even the most heinous of detriments even one of normal standing is brought to their knees, begging Gods of Asgard to lessen their pain, praying for the Valkyrie of Realms unknown to meet them at their end for they had fought their sufferings valiantly...and aloft? Lo, none answers fierce pleas, none holds an ear to the prayer, none meets the unfortunate victim to be passed unto Valhalla,” such a pain the arrogant young Godling Thor bestowed unto his childish Jotunn heart, his mind at a standstill for it was not equipped to endure a God's vigorous spurn, his skin too young and fresh to ever bear wounds of disdain, eyes too sheltered to have witnessed complete disregard for his Jotunn self – he spoke, though the torment swiftly pricking his heart intensified along with the clarity of his voice, “Behold and behest, I am unanswered. None shall hold me at their mercy, ever more, never more, never again.”

Slowly, gradually, as if reborn through new eyes, his heart turned to stone and his skin alike a beast's raw leather – Prince Loki disentangled himself from his prior position upon the bed, the color of his skin which had once terrified him in his infancy now felt alike an armor of chain-mail, his mind followed suit as his voice seemed as if to shake the homestead to it's lowest foundations, “My skin, show gloriously the very reflection of my soul. My heart, keep to the icy depths where memories lay. My hands, lay down your enemies with exacted cruelty.”

“All words only then are undone, unfastened, and untied when-” Prince Loki touched the softly pulsing wound, the flesh surrounding was tender and hot, and yet he peeled the wound open, his lips formed the stipulations of his life before he could understand the enchantment surrounding the emotion and words he had uttered, “-when alas I realize the strength of my own resolve.”

Weak from the spell avowing his new lot in life, Prince Loki weakly fell unto the bed and slept whilst his fate was decided unbeknownst to him or to the young Godling Thor.

 

“Do you hear that, Elder God Odin?” King Laufey held a hand up to his own ear and closed his eyes, a slow smile spread across his face as he said, “It seems to be the desperate words of my son's wretched suffering.”

Odin took a gulp of ale, the tempest of Asgard's palace glowed as bright as if daytime still ruled the holy Realm – Odin noted four-parts anger, three-parts loneliness, two-parts sadness, and one-part desperation – he pitied the Jotunn Prince and sympathized completely, yet he knew that he had to remain placid in King Laufey's presence, lest the Jotunn King picked up a slight tic from Odin's face and guessed the Elder God's intentions:

“Sadly, Odin, my son Loki may prove to be his usually disappointing self. You never should have wagered on Loki's behalf,” King Laufey idly counted Prince Loki's complete withdrawal from Thor as a victory to yet be exploited, he licked his lips and sneered quietly, “His infant agony....oh...how absolutely _delicious_! His woe, so _vibrant_ and _sweet_!”

“Greatly, my faith in your son Prince Loki is not misplaced, as is my faith in my son Thor,” Odin held very much confidence in both Prince Loki and Thor making amends, yet at times from watching the goings-on below, he could only hope that events would careen in his favor even whilst he still held sway over King Laufey's habit of constantly interfering with both sides of the game of fate, “Both shall see past each others' preset partisanship, beyond your daughters' tiresome imitation of Prince Loki's beauty, and lastly, King Laufey, your ghastly attempts at influencing my son's resolve.”

“Dearest friend, your bountiful knowledge of flattery wraps the Realms twice and yet you still manage to make an old Jotunn ashamed of his own dastardly intellect,” King Laufey feigned innocence, and he leaned his tall body upside a palace wall and looked upon Odin's peaceful fasçade, “I'm touched.”

“Still, the terms of my wager as of yet stands:-” Odin glanced up from his goblet of ale, his one lone eye scrutinizing King Laufey's confident posture and alas out to the light of the stars from the palace tempest's open balcony, “My son Thor shall refuse your daughters' proposal seven-hundred-and-twenty-nine times – for the price of an eye.”

“Deal,” King Laufey instantly agreed, the speed and surety of his words assuring Odin of the Jotunn King's certainty in the matter, as usual, King Laufey added another layer of rules to the wager either for his own benefit or an easily manipulated factor, “Baldr shall accept a proposal upon the first time it is brought to his attention, and as usual, you cannot interfere whether it is my most beloved daughter Roskava or any other better suited to wed brick layers – for the price of an ear.”

“Deal,” Odin shrugged, he lay a few choice words to entrap King Laufey one last time and this one last trap was far too enticing to deny, “Loki shall become a great sorcerer and a warrior, he will be vulnerable to only one thing: sympathy. The one thing you nor your daughters can give him – for the price of a tongue.”

“Deal,” King Laufey drained the last of the golden goblet's contents, he knelt down to Odin's level and murmured, “Your loss brings me one step further to my ultimate goal, Elder God Odin, I thank you for making my victory amusing.”

“It should be I that thanks you, King Laufey,” Odin turned away, showing King Laufey his back as if to disregard their previous wagers, he then went for the kill and mentioned his last wager in terms of regular banter, “Your friendship is that alike a scorpion striking blindly for all who pass – careful, one such sting upon your own back is all that is needed for your staged downfall.”

A spell of silence passed, King Laufey alas asked, “Is that a wager?”

Odin lengthened the silence between their words, he lastly instilled an air of mystery before he raised the brow above his good eye and asked, “If it was not?”

“Then, if proven true-” King Laufey paced about the front of the Elder God Odin, his bright eyes glinting as if seeing the end-result of their wager before himself, he said, “-I would surrender all suspended in eternal slumber back to their rightful owner. If I am victorious, I shall take your throne.”

“I will take that wager only if you add surrendering your daughters Roskava and Jarnsaxa to do with as befitted their most esteemed father,” Odin added, he watched intently for signs of withdrawal upon King Laufey's face.

“Sly old lover still,” King Laufey chuckled darkly, he proceeded to stand over Odin and look upon the Elder God's tiny form beneath his nose, “Little does prove your worthiness for my daughters, Elder God Odin, and yet, we are great friends and our companionship should be celebrated. I take up your wager and your terms.”

“After eons of friendship, you still manage to surprise me, King Laufey,” Odin motioned for an attendant over, he refilled both of their cups and disappeared – Odin and King Laufey shook each other's hand and took long drags from their respective goblets, Odin then nodded to a spire below the palace's support column where Thor ran from many very un-Jotun-like Princesses whom chased the poor Godling about in circles, “Then it is settled. We shall see the results. Let us count my first victory of seven-hundred-and-twenty-nine broken hearts...”

Alas able to lose the Jotunn Princesses, Thor ventured to Heimdall's stronghold where a small furnished room awaited his arrival: the room itself was located at the top of the stronghold and hidden within the stone walls, it was large enough to hold a scout troupe of men and their belongings, yet he stayed at the God of Watch Heimdall's side that the God alas relented to cleaning out the room, he then added a soldier's cot and blankets, an adult-sized washbasin, a writing desk, a full weapon's rack and rich carpets. Thor would never admit to Heimdall how grateful he was of the sparse accommodations, toys and trinkets were wonderful...if not for the terrible company which came with creature comforts – with only his sword and cape, Thor urged Unda onward, the horse's white wings easily carrying Thor's weight to the gleaming precipice of Heimdall's stronghold, he finally disembarked Unda and stripped away his saddle and bridal, Unda took flight toward Idun's garden where he was kept well, Thor stowed away his richly-adorned saddle and bridal inside a wooden chest on the interior of the stronghold's wall.

“Something bothers you, your Grace,” Heimdall's voice sounded from above the room's door, the young Godling ventured upward until he stood at Heimdall's side.

“Just some...stupid Jotunns...and Baldr ignoring me,” he mumbled, half-hoping that Heimdall would not hear, “And a Princess...”

“She is special,” as usual, the God's deep tone seemed as if to shake the stars littered about the Bifrost, Heimdall saw all and knew most of each Gods' habits, which angered Thor the most for even he, the Son of Odin, was enshrouded in fate's mystery.

Since Thor expected no visitors besides the odd star crossing the Bifrost's path, the young Godling took up a seat upon the table used for scrolls of star charts, he wrapped himself with the cloak though the night's chill seemed to evade him – he glanced to Heimdall whom simply kept watch of the Bifrost, he murmured, “But, I don't want her to be.”

“It is not your decision-” Heimdall answered unblinking, unmoved, and undisturbed by all the turmoil within Asgard's walls – another thing about forever standing guard upon Asgard's stronghold that Thor envied, also the fact which Heimdall seemed as if to know everything to solve even the most trickiest of life's riddles, “-whether one should be special to you or deserve your hatred.”

“It's _my_ mind, it's _my_ body, it's _my_ _heart_...-” Thor grimaced, yet he knew the painful truth how easy it was to lie, but even then lies were futile when told to Heimdall, doubly so when told to himself – and so he looked to Heimdall whom glanced upon him as plainly and unchanged as ever, “-...but _she_ _has_ _it_. What am I supposed to do?”

Heimdall's golden eyes slid away alike a pair of gilt coins floating down a stream – Thor unsheathed his sword, marveling of the fluid lines which represented flowing the chaos of everyday life, one straight edge sharpened to represent the natural order of life, the sharpened edge opposite represented chance, the tip where both edges met and became the killing point represented destiny, for with a sword, a God carved out their destiny within the tomes of history, their great deeds and dire misdeeds are forever more sung in poetry – the young Godling snapped his sword back into the sheath at the sound of Heimdall's low question, “What do _you_ feel?”

“Betrayed-” Thor gripped his sword tight within his feeble grasp, his knuckles turning white and his fingertips leaving welts upon the decorative golden sheath of his sword – bitterly, Thor lamented the great blow dealt to both his honor and ensuing happiness within Asgards walls at the mercy of seven-hundred-and-thirty Jotunn Princesses whom cared for neither but their own blessed situation and wealth of their husband's worship – the well holding his emotions at bay sprung a leak, he answered, “I feel betrayed by _me_.”

“Why do you feel alike so, your Grace?” Heimdall asked, not once breaking his golden gaze away from the Bifrost nor the empty star-road which stretched to infinity.

“Because, slowly, against my former wishes-” the whispered words halted at Thor's mouth, as if fearing to be exposed and committed to Heimdall's vast memory, “-I just might be infatuated with the _other_ Princesses.”

“ _They_ _look_ _just_ _like_ _her_! Sometimes _exactly_ alike Princess Loki, they are mere copies...images which are the surface shadows lurking upon the face of their maker...” horror of the most serious kind gripped Thor's mind, he recalled the first moment he had laid eyes upon one of Princess Loki's elder sisters, the girl...woman stood at his own mother Frigga's height, he knew instinctively that the Giantess was a walking parody of Princess Loki and so he fled her presence only to be pursued by many more whom wore Princess Loki's face alike a play mask, yet the chase of so many whom appeared alike Princess Loki was...thrilling – Thor's hands shook as he held the bejeweled sword's hilt and he hissed, “The Princesses are a _farce_...and yet...my heart takes flight and my soul is enslaved at the _mere_ _sight_ of their _enthralling_ _beauty_!”

The young Godling Thor knew his place beneath his Allfather Odin's guiding hand, that he has a right to be swayed by any means as natural order, that he is given the foreseen ability to enact his own will unguided by Odin's foresight, all the more probability for chance to allow King Laufey an easy victory for the wager placed – yet, Thor thought nothing of the truce between his King Laufey and his father, nothing of his actions causing a chain reaction leading to King Laufey's final victory – the most prominent subject troubling his mind was how he could so easily betray the missing Princess Loki's memory by taking pride in how they each gave quick pursuit, all vying for his attention, all showering him with compliments and vows of love everlasting....as if Thor himself were Baldr and not the other way around...Thor had never been so satisfied in all his ages as a young Godling of Odin's palace...and yet, at the back of his mind, all those sensations paled to the fact that he may never see or have the pleasure of being needed by Princess Loki again...for _that_ he was at least sure.

“As a _child_ , I am entitled _my_ _selfishness_ – as a _God_ of Asgard, _righteousness_ and _virtue_ is highly expected of me – as a possibly future _father_ and _sire_ of Godlings, a warrior's _valor_ and a father's _compassion_ is taught to me from infancy...-” Thor recalled the eons he had spent alongside Baldr whilst their mother and various other scholars carried information into their studies, teaching the two Godlings the many ways to enact decisions wisely and decree diplomacy, almost as much as learning star formations and legends far older than even Odin himself, from ettequette to the fair language of the highborn, Baldr and himself endured each with a quill and scroll at their side – battle training was to Thor's liking and so he threw himself into each teaching done by his uncle General Vili, he had not the patience to cast spells and illusions alike his uncle Ve – none could shield the young Godling Thor from the inner truth that held all of Asgard from ruin and himself from squandering his given talents, he asked, “-...what of _loyalty_ , Heimdall? Do _I_ choose my allegiances or is it chosen _for_ me? Does the _heart_ choose or is it the _head_ that gives final say?”

“It bothers you,” Heimdall stated, which always begged to be answered as if it were a question.

“ _Absolutely_ ,” Thor leaned back against the wall the same way he had leaned against the head of Princess Loki's bed, he held out his arms the same way he had previously held her tiny body – the phantom warmth of her body seeped into the ice of his marrow where Princess Loki's absence played upon the surface of his heart, the young Godling drew up his legs unto the table, he laid the sword upon his crossed legs and traced the Jotunn monster's blood still upon the surface of the silver blade, a sickness of the mind grew within Thor as he lovingly gazed upon the bright stain – he said, “Whence I held Princess Loki in my arms, I promised myself to _her_. Just to _her_ , I knew that I would find peace and completeness...”

Only the quarter of the day prior, Thor found the sight of the Jotunns both disgusting and regal, for reasons known only to himself and his immediate family – he knew why Baldr and himself played the game of fate and chance, for when the last wager was won, only then will they be alas free from King Laufey's clutches – as an Odinson, Thor accepted his as of yet unrevealed destiny which revolved around the due arrivals of mysterious parcels wrapped in Jotunn beast leathers, and the goings of blue gems the size of a clenched fist by Odin's ravens Huginn and Muninn, only Heimdall knew of the contents since it was he that checked each parcel before they were sent in the direction of Jotunheim.

Never one to show his true emotion, Heimdall instantly saw the change take place upon Odin's son: alike a seemingly innocent fire of conscious and knowledge left unattended, the fires of wrath engulfed all the mildness and mercy within Thor until the bare stone floors of indifference remained – so suddenly, alike water quelling the flame, the change disappeared.

“She was... _different_ ,” the Godling Thor glanced up to Heimdall whom watched him intently, his voice seemed so hollow and lacking of life that Heimdall may have mistaken Thor for a wandering spirit, “So much so, I cannot describe it to you even with all the words I know.”

A question or a statement begging to be answered, Thor could not understand the quiet tone which Heimdall used, “It is fate?”

“ _Fate_ intervened, interrupted something perfect and unique...” Thor brushed off Heimdall's words – he pushed off from the table and stood, he looked up at the God whom towered over his pubescent self, he huffed as if he wished that the groaning in his stomach was rather the forging of a sword rather than his body admitting defeat to the Jotunn Princesses whom chased him all evening, “...I'm hungry, Heimdall.”

“I will request a carrier for an extra ration and a meal,” Heimdall squeezed Thor's shoulder, the young Godling then heeded Heimdall's statement and ventured back through the stronghold's winding stairway, “Rest whilst I stand guard, your Grace.”

Before Asgard glowed anew by the break of day, Odin's palace was swept in a whirlwind of activity, the vast dining hall was opened and a wall removed so that it was opened to Frigga's garden, a golden canopy flew over the garden from the great dining hall, slits of light played between each fold and peeped into the garden which grew lushly at Idun's beck, she willed spiraling vines to flower and trees to give fruit for the very occasion – goblets of gold lay before the place settings atop the long table, floating sconces of light chased even the faintest of shadow to the deepest recesses of the palace, the table stood piled high with all manners of beast and fowl, roasted cuts and hearty stews – enormous golden tankards of drink were set amidst the table: hearty ale for the Asgardians and the Dwarves, honeyed nectar mead for the Elves, clear spirits for the Jotunns, and honeyed milk for the children.

The Elder God Odin and Goddess Frigga wore their matching ensemble of golden robes and their gilt crowns, Baldr wore his own elaborate tunic and cape of pale gray-blue – Thor was chased into his own crimson tunic and cape that he hated so much. Kind words passed between the Elves and the Asgardians, for they had nothing but good tidings to elaborate upon – each indulged and mingled, upholding each truce as they passed betwixt uneasy peoples of each respective Realm, the hand of the exquisite Princess Roskava held tightly to the young God Baldr whilst he politely welcomed each guest, a task which she tired of easily, she excused herself and spied the young Godling Thor nowhere in sight.

To the Elder God Odin's absolute delight, King Laufey's daughters whom were previously rejected by Thor quickly found husbands from the other Realms, their beauty serving only to enrage King Laufey and further Odin's odds of winning their wager, so Odin too-merrily blessed and toasted to each new couple whom left the feast to consummate their love for one another – King Laufey merely grimaced at each of his new sons-in-law as they passed before him, leaving little to secrecy as they flaunted their newfound union, the gathering lasted only days and yet Thor felt as if it were a lifetime too long, he sat upon the stone fountain where he had last fed Princess Loki a magical apple of immortality, he wondered to himself if she was somewhere beyond Heimdall's sight enacting her newfound desires bourn from Idun's apple.

Brushing his fingers along the smooth stone where he had cradled Princess Loki's body in her sleep, he started a the feminine voice which begged his attention, “Your Grace, why do you avoid us?”

“You all look... _different_ ,” the Godling Thor answered, his brow unconsciously giving way to a wrinkle as he watched her expression melt from serene to completely amorous.

“Oh, this,” her long limbs motioned to her face with the singular care of a feather-like caress as her hand ventured down unto her clothed thigh, she flicked her long black hair over her shoulder and watched him through her long eyelashes – the Godling Thor blushed, he looked away and glanced upon her kneeling form as she floated to him, gripping his hot hands within her cool ones, she answered sweetly, “It is only our rightful form, your Grace. Have you not been told that once a Jotunn Giantess' eyes are cast upon her beloved, her heart is forever changed...as does her form? It is why so many Gods, Dwarves and Elves had fallen in love with Jotunn Giantesses, because it is _she_ whom is enslaved by the wills of her _beloved's_ _deepest_ _desire_ , and her body soon molds itself to suit her _beloved's_ _ultimate_ _wish_.”

The young Godling Thor never, in all his most astute studies, had come upon a strange and wonderful piece of Jotunn lore, the tradition of the inhabitants of Jotunheim were fairly unknown, yet, he would not dare question a Jotunn of her customs, much less a Jotunn Princess whom practiced all manners of truth and etiquette, and so, the young Godling Thor accepted her explanation...at the same time, being told that it was he that caused a change in the Jotunn Princess' features held a certainly convincing _appeal_.

“Be it mindfulness, a strong-will, or fair-spoken. Yet in your case...-” the Giantess made sure not to evoke anything but the seed of interest – the young Godling Thor did seem interested as far as her sensuous motions and low voice embodied living and breathing _lust_ , “-...Beautiful and docile. Easily bent to _your_ every need...”

“But...” the Godling Thor weakly protested as she knelt upon the grass, her head tilting side to side, “Princess Loki-?”

Another Giantess appeared at Thor's side, she held within her hand a goblet of warm honeyed milk, she pressed a finger to Thor's lips and whispered, “Hush, let us enjoy this night-”

Overwhelmed by the scents of each Jotunn Princess, Thor's head spun, each smelled lovelier than the last, each Princess' smell was punctuated by desire, Asgard seemed as if to tilt just slightly as Thor fell back against the stone fountain – he took the honeyed milk in his shaky hands and drained the contents, slowly, as if watching from another dimension altogether, Thor heard himself say, “Of course, maybe...I should...”

One of the Jotunn Giantesses held his body from the grass and laid him properly over the flat side of the stone fountain, she whispered sweetly, “Your Grace-”

“Please, Princesses, call me Thor,” once more, his mouth moved without his doing, Thor fell as again the platform of Asgard tilted.

“Splendid, Thor, your Grace, the burden upon your shoulders looks troublesome-” another Giantess appeared before Thor, his vision swam with many beautiful bodies dressed in beast's hides and haloed with their thick black hair – the Giantess propped him up and laid his body across her lap, she brushed away his blonde locks as she murmured to him, “-if you so wish, I am at your disposal if you'd but like to lessen your load.”

Oh, the young Godling Thor could no longer deny the pull he felt to each Jotunn Giantess, how jealous he grew of their mingling with other peoples from different Realms, how badly at that very moment he wished that he was an adult – he admired the Giantesses features, their pale skin as white and pure as snow opals, their glowing blue eyes as bright and stunning as Princess Loki's, their shapely red lips, their high blushing cheekbones and their long black hair which they styled tightly unto their scalps – and yet, none seemed as innocent as Princess Loki, Thor then murmured, “Your kin and yourself bear a striking resemblance to Princess Loki...”

“Jarnsaxa, your Grace,” the previous Giantess leaned over Thor's prone body, she took his goblet away and handed it to another of her sisters whom in turn handed the goblet to another, until the goblet and its secrets were lost in the lively crowd of the Elder God Odin's gathering, she took her personal handkerchief from the inside of her sleeve and dabbed away the milk from Thor's lips, she asked, “Am I not beautiful?”

“In truth, you're too much too exquisite...” Thor spoke as if he were reciting poetry, each word finely tuned to please the listener, for indeed, he spoke truly, “...so much so that I'd be driven to the brink of madness if I’d lost you. _Any_ of you.”

“I'm touched, your Grace-” another Giantess cooed, she brushed away the mist upon Thor's brow and his hair matting against his forehead – Thor turned away, he disengaged himself from the Jotunn Princess' hands and stood shakily, “-did I say something wrong? Where are you going? The night is still young.”

“Princess Jarnaxa, all you gracious Princesses, don't take this the wrong way, but-” the young Godling Thor huffed out his answer hurriedly, he felt dizzy enough to close his eyes for an eternity and still feel the whole of Asgard sway beneath his feet, he found closing his eyes to be slightly helpful, so he blinked slowly and breathed deeply – the twist within his heart became all too great to bear, and so he remained faithful to the memory of Princess Loki, he clutched his chest and answered, “-my heart and mind have been...previously _bespoken_ for.”

“Would you still accept my friendship, your Grace? If in some way you would but find a needle-point of kindness in your heart, then I would so love to be your platonic _companion_ if not your future _bride_ ,” the numerous Giantess Princesses fell to Thor's feet, the bravest of the many gripped his leg and touched her forehead to his boot, she sobbed pitifully, “Please _accept_ my offer-!”

A hush fell over those whom witnessed the entire exchange, Thor felt himself compelled to walk away without so much as a word, and yet, he knew instinctively that his Allfather Odin would wish him to do what was chivalrous – begrudgingly, Thor lifted the Giantess Jarnsaxa from the grass, he carefully brushed away the tears from her fair cheek with the sleeve of his tunic – he thought to himself, 'Mayhap Princess Loki would look ever _more_ fair with tears decorating her face...'

“Pretty words from a beautiful face, I cannot turn one so flawless away,” the young Godling Thor helped her to her feet, to the grand pleasure of the witnesses whom loitered about Frigga's garden, he then offered his arm as he said, “Please, Princess, accompany me to my room? It is still quite dark and I cannot readily part from your splendid company.”

“I would be verily honored, your Grace,” Princess Jarnsaxa sniffed the last of her tears away, she rose at the Godling Thor's request and instinctively took his arm in her own – Thor could not refuse when two-dozen Giantess Princesses requested that he also escort them back to their rooms and so once more to the amusement of the entire gathering, he led a small parade of exquisite beauties back to their respective rooms.

Marching past Baldr, Thor grimaced as his elder brother joked at his grand expense, “Alas, the baby brother of mine learns to treat a lady alike her station begets!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter made me sweat....because i just couldn't write this as a Shota, it would break my heart & quite possibly break my mind...so, *ahem* i can't write shota.


	8. Childhood's End

Prince Loki felt as if he had spent a lifetime within Asgard's protective walls, a lifetime held at the mercy of Vili and Ve's training – and yet, he took full responsibility of requesting to be trained alongside Vili's young squires whom studied the arts of combat, he was also a devout student of Ve's, forever meditating and calling forth unto forces to enact their will, and though fear occasionally gripped Prince Loki and halted his studies, he pushed himself to learn especially of the forbidden arts which Ve kept a secretive book of – upon seeing the horrific effects of the taboo disciplines, Prince Loki vowed to himself to never use the spells on anyone...even if he knew seven-hundred-and-twenty-nine Jotunn Princesses whom deserved every one of the nine forbidden spells a thousand times over – thoughts as such had just then cost him the bout against the young Goddess Lady Sif:

“May I suggest dancing, Helblinde?” she asked, her more mature form leaning over the sandy grounds where each squire practiced their weapons technique, the menfolk practiced separately from the womenfolk, and Lady Sif (appears to be of 22 Midgardian years) being somewhat of an unofficial expert took a special liking to Prince Loki's demure nature and instantly befriended him – she smiled brightly and offered her hand to Prince Loki whom was still sprawled face-up from the ground, “Does even that seem too much of a challenge?”

“If swords and mayhem were involved, I'd beg my dance partner to be gentle with a novice alike myself,” Prince Loki smiled, he was a little more through the first one-sixth of his age (slightly past 18 in Midgardian years) and had been living alike an Asgardian since he was banished from the palace a seemingly lengthy amount of time hence.

“Wight of a feather must fly together,” taking her hand into his own, the young Goddess Sif helped him unto his feet and giggled as she watched whilst he dusted off his green tunic and picked out the sand from his fashionably waist-high braid, she twined her arm into his own and led the way to a pair of velvet cushions where their packed lunches awaited, “Come, Helblinde, let us take our repast.”

How Asgardian womenfolk and Goddesses could chastely cling to one another still made Prince Loki blush his deep azure skin until it flushed a brighter and deeper blue, the virginal touches Lady Sif brushed upon his hands or even barely over his arm was almost alike how Ein held him as a child – keeping his voice evenly subdued and slightly high-pitched, Prince Loki answered, “Of course, Lady Sif.”

Lady Sif, first, opened her lunch which spread itself out upon the ground into a small feast and revealed all manners of poached sweet tubers, berries, fruit and honeyed pastry breads – Prince Loki then opened his own pack, the plain cotton popped open where different dried meats, salt-cured cold slices, an offal pie tucked into a bread pocket and roasted venison lay – Prince Loki remembered that his friendship with Lady Sif involved her love of his wards' cooking, the daily offal pies came from Ein.

Prince Loki still eyed the apples warily, and yet he could not help himself if the young Goddess Lady Sif begged him to have at least _one_ , and so he learned earlier on in their training that he should eat an apple first rather than choking one down hurriedly before their day ended – Lady Sif reached her right hand across the tiny space between herself and the left of Prince Loki's side, she brushed a rebellious black strand from his cheek and giggled, “You're beautiful, Helblinde,”

Chewing as slowly as possible and tasting each tiny crunch for the bitter taste of poison, Prince Loki nearly coughed out the apple still within his mouth, he swallowed quickly and looked unto Lady Sif incredulously, she only smiled at his shy antics and took a bite of the offal pie from his left hand – Prince Loki ingested the apple in record time, he gasped quietly, “Goddess, you jest too freely-!”

None had ever called his native Jotunn form _beautiful_. Ever. Especially not after the God Thor, in their joined youth, yelled for all to hear, that he, _Prince_ _Loki_ , or Ein's _pretend_ _daughter_ _Helblinde_ , was a 'foul beast', 'Jotunn monster', 'abomination', or the absolute most memorable favorite: _Jotunn_ _Filth_. Perhaps it was his mild manner and humble standing which caused all whom came into contact with him to actually believe that he was a _female_ Jotunn, not that he was ever discouraged or actually tried acting _less_ feminine, case in point: Ein plated Prince Loki's gradually lengthening hair each morning in Asgard's latest fashion, she also took on the task of strategically stitching each piece of Prince Loki's clothing to pinch at the waist and silhouette his body to lend the illusion of a feminine figure, they would then practice the pitch of his voice if suddenly it deepened or began to grate from the sound of his maturing male vocal cords, and she lastly left a small box of ladies' perfumes and soaps to keep his natural musky scent under a flowery veil of secrecy – it was a task of all tasks, yet none ever suspected _Helblinde_ of being in truth _Prince_ _ss_ _Loki_ whom was actually a _Jotunn_ _Prince_ of fae ancestry.

“Something within you suggests to me that you are in fact beautiful, as if it were your very _nature_. You doubt me still,” Lady Sif's right hand gently batted the delicate curl, which somehow found its way outside of Prince Loki's plated halo woven once about his head and off to the side of his right shoulder – Lady Sif reached the knot which fastened Prince Loki's hair and she suggested, “Perhaps if we can-”

“No-!” Prince Loki gasped, he took Lady Sif's hand delicately within his own and smiled, “My gratitude, Lady Sif, yet I would not know how to repay your immense...kindness and I would very much like to run your errand instead. Such as delivering your letter to Thor.”

The young Goddess Lady Sif's expression fell, there was once a time when even Lady Sif was the God Thor's secret admirer – she begged and pleaded for Prince Loki to take a letter into the palace where Loki knew he was not welcomed, out of fear, Loki instead led her to the rooftop of Vili and Ve's home, they lay together upon the soft polished wooden roof, laughing and trading stories of their own misadventures – it was also then that Prince Loki mused how perhaps he could reveal his true identity to Lady Sif and she would then...hopefully...accept his proposal to be formally courted by him...yet, he knew their courtship would be based solely on friendship and platonic love – roots that will never sprout flowers and a flower that will never give fruit, and fruit that will never bear seeds.

“Again, mentioning Thor unto the likes of me. Allow me to educate you on the Odinsons-” Lady Sif's playful expression became shadowed in an instant – she leaned in close to Prince Loki, enough that he could smell the warm perfume upon her neck and the roast meat on her breath, she said, “There is Thor, the youngest Son of Odin: as green as a spring blade, swine-headed and as dull-minded as the head of a bludgeoning mallet-”

“Yet he is loyal and courageous to a fault. You know all about Baldr, don't you? Baldr's fame is only matched by those whom offer their love unto him at first sight,” she leaned in closer, he voice dropping, the soft brown curls spilling over her hair circlet tickling Prince Loki's ear, her voice dropped to a serious whisper, “There was Hod, the eldest Odinson-”

“Hod was the greatest warrior to have ever fought in Jotunheim during the Great Battle,” Lady Sif never broke his questioning gaze as he looked to her, she spoke with nothing but reverence and pride for the mysterious Odinson, “None could touch him for he was too swift to even feel the icy cut of Jotunn wind. Hod won over many sieges upon the treacherous Jotunheim landscape, none could stop him, he overcame many an obstacle set before him – until the Great Battle drew to a close where the Elder God Odin's victory seemed eminent. The Warrior-God Hod stormed the chambers of King Laufey's castle, where various plunders and treasures awaited for the victor, it was also there he had found a beauty unlike any other, the fairest and most sweet of Jotuns and elves alike, her bosom heavy and her belly swelled with child-”

“Lady Sif! We nearly put out a search party for you!” one of Lady Sif's maids came rushing through the training grounds, her petticoats and skirts flying as she spotted her master's daughter obscenely positioned to a female squire's side, a fellow _Jotunn_ squire no less – she hurriedly grabbed up Lady Sif's lunch pack and her cape, she hissed half in fear and half from anger at Prince Loki's closeness to Lady Sif, “Your parents are worried sick for their missing daughter, come now away with me _now_ , m'lady!”

That very night before the roaring fireplace where Vili and Ve told stories after supper, which was designated for storytelling since Vili went too far once and smashed the dinnerware as the story reached it's pinnacle, he asked both of his caretakers, “Vili, Ve, who is Hod?”

Vili's eyes lit up and dimmed as if he had unknowingly dug up a buried memory, he said, “Hod-”

“Is nothing to concern yourself with,” Ve interjected – and so, Prince Loki noticed that the Warrior-God was a secret, he never asked why or of any other circumstances that may involve Hod, for he learned earlier on that Odin had many another hidden sons throughout the Realms and one whom was Baldr's own twin named Hodur.

Deep into the nighttime of Asgard, Prince Loki was constantly interrupted by the thoughts which rang louder than the runes and sygils upon written within the books, so he sat in bed, the open tome forgotten at his side as he puzzled out the many questions surrounding the Odinsons and how it was they that played a part in the ever-changing game of fate and chance:  
If the Warrior-God Hod was such a very much revered God and boasted insurmountable skills in combat, then why is Hod never publicly mentioned? Why was he kept such a secret? Why was none ever aware of the Warrior-God Hod's name whence he heard the retelling through the Jotunn tongue? Was his name kept silent being that it was a soundless _curse_? Just by the young Goddess Lady Sif's short retelling of the Great Battle of Jotunheim, it sounded as if Hod was surely victorious, and so why is it that he is never mentioned again after? Is the Warrior-God Hod dead? If the Warrior-God Hod is dead, then why is his name and deeds never sung by the skalds (poets)? Was Hod banished from Asgard by doing the unspeakable? In terms of warfare, what is _unspeakable_?

Perhaps the answer lies with the seemingly innocuous character in Lady Sif's retelling: 'the beauty whom lay in King Laufey's chambers amongst King Laufey's treasures...'

Several long day-cycles later, Prince Loki sat with the young Goddess Lady Sif, sharing their early-evening meals, he turned to her and asked, “And so...what of the Great Battle and the Warrior-God Hod?”

“Oh! Hmm,” Lady Sif's delicate fingers popped a berry before she could drop the fruit into her own mouth, her noncommittal shrug and fitful answer stirred Prince Loki's imagination and incurable wonder, “My mind is not what it used to be, Helblinde, it seems I’ve quite forgotten.”

Neither said a word as the day wore on so slowly that Prince Loki felt that were he back in Jotunheim, he would be fast asleep next to the nurse-maid Ein – she would hum tirelessly unto his snoozing form and give her breast freely if he suddenly grew hungry, the uncomplicated times when Jotunheim's day was but thirty eight hours from the early morning until the next morning, time moved so slowly in Asgard that he felt as if he had lived several lifetimes too long, each hour rich with either warmth or remembering the young God Thor's wrath-

“There is another thing, Helblinde, but only if you _swear_ upon your _life_ not to repeat it,” the young Goddess Lady Sif leaned over their intermingled luncheons, in her own secretive way, she whispered through the long black waves which spilled over Prince Loki's elaborate long braid, “Over the eons, the Elder God Odin and King Laufey have been making wagers, from one wager to another. If the Elder God Odin wins a wager, he is sent a parcel from unknown origins – and if he loses, he surrenders anything of King Laufey's choosing.”

Upon hearing his father's nearly-forgotten name, Prince Loki turned to Lady Sif, she saw the many questions simmering within his mind, and he asked with the same air of secrecy, “Do you suppose, Goddess Sif, it holds roots as to tell why Thor despises Jotuns so?”

“Possibly, it would not be too far removed from the actual truth-” Lady Sif sat flush against Prince Loki, she reached her delicate hand down unto the bundle of cured meats and ate a ladylike piece – suddenly, she hopped behind Prince Loki and brushed her long fingers through the wavy strands, her infectious smile reached through his dark mood as she smiled, “So your hair has grown, Helblinde, I would like to braid and brush it one day-”

By the sudden change in Lady Sif's nature, it seemed that someone benefited from Prince Loki's ignorance of the matter, he accepted the divine intrusion for the time being, he nodded slowly and answered, “My gratitude, Lady Sif.”

The same maid came to fetch the house master's daughter, and so Lady Sif bid Prince Loki farewell for the day, “Until the morrow, Helblinde. Keep yourself out of trouble.”

Prince Loki nodded his untroubled assent, Lady Sif's form soon grew hazy from the early-evening's deep golden light, he went about his business tidying up the training grounds by putting away the weapons into their rightful casements, lastly, he then awaited Vili's arrival at the stables so that they may head home for the remainder of the day, the dull shine upon Prince Loki's dark boots became tarnished at the sight of a tiny beast inching its way along the toe of his boot, he leaned down to perch the caterpillar unto safer ground when a foot stepped over his hand, the gleaming hide boot and hard wooden heel ground into his hand and pushed down further still – Loki stifled a cry as he bit his inner cheek and glanced skyward to the instigator:

“Does your too lovely appearance beg words and actions of admiration still?” a soft voice followed a face which Prince Loki knew that he had once seen somewhere, and that somewhere happened to be his own reflection had he been able to keep his natural beauty – the Asgardian's kindness had kept Prince Loki's elder sister well, for she held a glowing pride for the average Asgardian height, her un-Jotunn-like white skin, her large blue eyes ringed with thick eyelashes and capped with expressively arched eyebrows, her high cheekbones and tiny nose, her large pouting red lips and pointed chin, and her black hair swept from her face and pinned tightly against her scalp – as if she were proudly displaying the beauty not rightfully hers' and despised even a single hair in the way of her face.

“Even a blind Troll would turn away if forced to wed a wretch such as yourself!” the Giantess Princess leaned down to Prince Loki's level, she brushed a thin white finger over Loki's deep azure skin, her sharp translucent fingernail etched a tiny bead of blood from Loki's pointed cheekbone – she hissed coyly of Prince Loki's made-up name and identity as a _female_ Jotunn famed for killing the young _Princess_ Loki, “Helblinde the terrifying Giant? The eater of innocent Princesses?”

A cold fire blazed within Prince Loki's heart, his skin turned scaly, the point of her finger which still touched his cheekbone was then pricked by a indigo-tipped barb of his own, the Giantess Princess snatched her hand back as a pitch bead of blood slithered down the slender white column of her forefinger, she took a hasty step back away from the stables' shadows – Prince Loki stood and followed, he looked upon his sister, they stood at the same height being that Prince Loki had as of yet to hit the full throes of puberty and shake off the last of his puerility.

“Princesses are an acquired taste, alike Jotunheim oxen. You may _look_ appetizing, yet only I know by experience what _rotten_ beings you are,” Prince Loki said as he marched toward her retreating body, taking the blood of his elder sister's from the spike upon his cheek, he licked the finger which held her blood and spat out the liquid upon her silk gossamer gown as if it were the foulest bile, his satisfied hiss echoed through the vile depths of her mind, “ _Putrid_ and _tainted_ to your wholly _filthy_ _core_.”

“Hearsay and nonsense, 'Helblinde, disowned bastard daughter of that dreadful _pauper_ of a servant Ein',” she held her chin high and dared not to show fear in the face which her own and her many sisters' cruelty etched, Prince Loki pursued her steadily through the sandy training grounds, her steps became uneven as she continued to backed away, she sniffed the air and asked haughtily, “What of the Odinsons, do you think, Helblinde?”

“Fools if they take your hand,” Prince Loki answered flatly – he took no sort of pleasure torturing even the most helpless of creatures, yet by passed events and imbued experience was Loki able to decide whom was innocent and whom was cruel, his elder sister's eyes grew wide in anger and her shapely lips gave way to a mouthful of fangs, “Careful, Princess, my duty is to the Elder God Odin Allfather.”

“Traitor!” the elder sister threw her hand at Prince Loki whom only easily grasped her raised fist and tightened his talon-tipped grip, she winced and yet remained all the more feigning ignorance of her growing fear, she shrugged her petite shoulder impertinently, “Oh, we do love ourselves competition, especially with you, Helblinde, whom lost your Royal lineage and beauty within a single night. It is such a pity...the mindless God Thor was...should I say _attached_?”

At the mentioning of the young God Thor's name, Prince Loki's grip tightened, he fancied of how much force it would take to snap a magically-enhanced Giantess' pretty little wrist – he recalled each sworn oath said against his younger self a lost lifespan ago, whence he was but a Jotunn child whom bent to King Laufey's will and simpered behind his wet-nurse Ein's skirts as if it were a shield, gone was the pathetic child he once had been in his youth – Prince Loki's talons broke skin as his own deep azure skin grew barbs beneath his hands and pierced the Giantess Princess' gown sleeve.

“I may be a shamed Jotunn Prince, yet my body is not for the flouncy enjoyments of a self-important, underhanded Odinson. Favors of mine are not for the faint of _mind_ nor for the _weak_ _of_ _heart_!” Prince Loki growled low in his throat, the ladylike softness of his voice lost to the provoked timbre that was his male voice – he threw aside his elder sister's hand and noticed that her skin came away unharmed, and yet her silk gossamer gown held evidence of earlier violence, she hugged her uninjured limb to herself and lowered her eyes demurely, “Not alike some -whom I will not mention- are in league trading their flesh as if it were a handful of coppers and promises.”

From the side of Prince Loki's left, a large hand shoved his body, as if in a dream, Prince Loki was met with the mesmerizing image of the grown Thor Odinson (appearing at past 23 Midgardian years of age) : though Thor was not at all beautiful as his beloved elder brother Baldr, he held very handsome and noble features which only an Asgardian God knew how to wear and flaunt as they pleased, the next hard shove floored Prince Loki, he narrowed his eyes at both his elder sister and the God Thor whom held a long sword to Prince Loki's throat, the cold edge kissed his pulsing vein and sang it's metallic ode for a taste of Loki's blood.

“Apologize! Or so help me, Jotunn filth, I shall send you back to your home Realm in pieces!” Thor roared as he stood triumphantly over Prince Loki's prostrate form, Prince Loki stood though the threat of death never lessened, he stood in the face of the spoiled young Godling whom once held the same blade to his throat whence they were both children, the blade tapped Loki's chin, “Starting with your head.”

“I apologize-” Prince Loki lowered his voice to the same timbre of a maiden whom allowed only the most minute control to slip from her lips, he glared once at his grimly smiling elder sister and held the God Thor's gaze, he continued flatly, “-that you are an empty-headed Princess whom knows nothing but how to squat over the hips of menfolk. My sincerest, most heartfelt condolences, Princess.”

“My apology befitting of one of Laufey's daughters,” Prince Loki took a distorted contentment as he watched his elder sister's beautiful features melt into a puddle of awestricken shock, and Prince Loki remembered then of Thor's oath whence they were children and he was a bedridden sickly child – he knelt to the training ground's sandy floor, his fingers brushed aside his elaborately updone hair and he presented the azure slit of skin where his neck stood exposed to the edge of the God Thor's seeking blade, he presumed that if he were alive because of Thor's courageous deed, only then could his life be taken by the giver's hand which had once given him life – he stated simply, “Do as you will, your Grace, just promise to put my head in a silk bind.”

“I'll give you a silk bind, Jotunn, and I will toss it Helheim where you shall _rot_ 'til Ragnarok come,” the God Thor growled, he raised his sword over Prince Loki's kneeling form, the willingly exposed area of blue skin caused him an instantaneous flash of sorrowful regret and the slightest twinge of pity – he quashed those pesky emotions and positioned his sword high over the Jotunn's body – Prince Loki closed his eyes, prepared to never see Asgard's beautiful splendor ever again, he held the squirming caterpillar's tiny body against his own and allowed his mind to soar, a crack sounded high within Prince Loki's ears, the sound of rolling thunder resounded throughout Asgard, he awaited the hot gush of his Jotunn blood to spill over the sands.

“Oi! What's th' meanin' o' this, nephew Thor?” Vili's words broke through the emptiness of Prince Loki's clarity, he looked up and saw the gleam of two crossed weapons, the most menacing of the pair was Thor's blade which stopped a breath's width short of cleaving through Prince Loki's skin, the long black plait of Loki's hair fell away for having been the receiver of Thor's death strike – Vili swatted Thor's sword aside and stood high over the three, “Can't ye see these're the grounds fer trainin'?”

“Uncle Vili-” the young God Thor nearly had to stare straight into the level of the highest trees to meet his uncle's questioning gaze, as tall as Thor was he still stood at half of Vili's enormous height – he motioned firstly to Prince Loki's kneeling form with the point of the sword and secondly to the Giantess Princess whom palstered herself to Thor's shoulder, he growled over the constant over-exaggerated din of the Giantess Princess' pleading and thanking, “-This detestable _Jotunn_ just insulted the fair and helpless Princess Jarnsaxa. I must defend her honor.”

“En't that so, Helblinde?” Vili looked to Prince Loki's smaller Jotunn form, Prince Loki could only nod guiltily for he knew then that he had overstayed the warm welcome within Vili and Ve's homestead, he counted on the one day when Vili and Ve would cast him out the same way that the God Thor had previously, Thor sneered as Vili asked, “Defend her honor, ye say?”

“Aye, uncle Vili-” within the protective encasement of Thor's muscled arms, Prince Loki's elder sister made a sickening display of helplessness, she complained of fear if her life had not been spared from _Helblinde_ _the_ _eater_ _of_ _innocent_ _Princesses_ – Thor took the Giantess Princess' hand and kissed her tears away, he then spoke reverently of the Giantess Princess' virtues as if they were the holiest of holies, “For _she_ is fair and none shall question her ungiven Maidenshead.”

Temporarily forgotten, Prince Loki held his posture upon his knees whilst Vili looked questioningly upon the two whom made a spectacle, he whistled through the hollow of his missing teeth as he asked, “Helpless, ye say, n' 'cause _she's_ a lass?”

“Aye, a most beautiful _Princess_ she is,” the God Thor answered, both the Giantess Princess and Thor stared at one another lovingly, Vili was thoroughly sickened of his nephew's utter _blindness_ of the injustice which had come to pass.

“Oh, so t' ye, ' _defendin_ ' _one's_ _honor_ ' 's makin' this _Jotunn_ _lass_ here _kneel_ _down_ -” Vili slurred and jumbled his words together out of disbelieving anger as he paced about the three whom were at a standstill beneath his towering height, “- _unarm'd_ , _turnt_ _away_ , her head _bowed_ _low_ near t' th' ground-”

The weight of realization stunned the God Thor, for he broke himself away from the Giantess Princess' arms and eyed the lesser form of Prince Loki, whom had yet to move.

“So now ye _asham'd_? Why bother, nephew? Go on, she's right _here_ -” Vili rumbled lowly, he got upon one knee and directed with his own sword to the exposed nape of Prince Loki's neck, Thor halfheartedly held the blade to the Jotunn's neck, Vili crouched to Thor's height and said, “ _One_ _clean_ _sweep_ n' she'd be ready for th' silk bag she ask'd for-”

A shadow passed over the Jotunn Helblinde's face, Thor caught the tiniest rueful expression upon the female Jotunn squire's warm azure eyes – within the blink of her eye, the expression became cold and neutral, the God Thor gripped the chest of his own crimson tunic and stared deeper still into the unseen depths of Helblinde's eyes where unfathomable emotions swam...as if he had once seen these very eyes before...

“Yield, uncle Vili! _Yield_!” Thor shouted, he twisted his arm out of Vili's grip, he sheathed his sword and ordered of the knelt form to the Giantess Princess' utter discontent, “Rise, Helblinde-”

“ _Lady_ Helblinde t' ya, ye spoilt pup,” Vili knocked an elbow to Thor's shoulder which jostled the God – Prince Loki witnessed as the simple action caused every drop of male ostentation to drain until Thor looked every much as chastised as a child, Thor none too graciously held out his hand to Prince Loki whom then accepted both the title and Thor's hand, he stood with his chin held high and his shoulders thrown back, “Nary a thought in yer pretty head n' ye go insultin' _unarm'd_ _lass-_ _paladins_! Di'nt ye Allfather Odin teach ye better?”

“Apologize, t' both _Lady_ _Helblinde_ n' ye offend'd Princess,” Vili poked a forefinger at Thor as further stigmatization, the Giantess Princess had long ago disappeared behind a bramble and snuck back to the safety of the palace.

“She's _Jotunn_ -” Thor growled, he cast a glare Prince Loki's way and barked, “I needn't grovel to the likes of _her_ -!”

“Why? 'Cause she ain't in need o' yer stinkin' _protection_? 'Cause she can _hold_ _her_ _own_ _sword_ n' _defend_ _her_ _own_ _liberties_?” Vili rose up to his full height, his voice boomed across Asgard, he lowered his voice then and asked of his nephew's own vitue, “ 'Cause she refuses t' be but a stain upon yer bedsheets?”

“You defend her in earnest, uncle Vili. Are you so _smitten_ that even you, _General_ of Allfather Odin's army, find yourself vulnerable to _her_ _hideous_ _charm_?” Thor paced betwixt both Vili and Prince Loki, he obstinately strode alike a mating peacock as he preached his hate of Jotunn Frost Giants though it was known to the closest of Odin's family that Thor regularly took one or the other to his bedchambers – he was moreover angry that Vili was _knowledgeable_ of such happenstances, “I am _disgraced_ for your fraternizing, uncle Vili!”

“Far too long th' lass suffer'd yer cruelty, n' now that she chooses t' defy yer will o' an apology? Mightily, it's ye I'm ashame'd fer,” Vili poked an enormous forefinger at Thor's chest, Thor refused to step aside and allow his uncle to have authority over him, he stood against Vili's words, denying to himself how rightful it was to be scolded by his uncle whom only wanted the best for the Odinsons – Prince Loki chose not to interfere being that matters had seemed to escalate from the simple matter of treating one with respect to the beginnings of a bitter feud, “A God t' question his _own_ _servant_ , whom _entrusts_ _her_ _faith_ n' _loyal_ _ty_ t' _Asgard_ , whom _abandon'd_ _her_ _own_ _people_ n' _willin_ _'_ _ly_ disavowed _her_ _own_ legacy...I hope that it 's Lady Helblinde whom possess' mercy t' _forgive_ _ye_.”

Nothing more to be done, Thor's attention dwelt upon the very fact that the _Jotunn_ called _Helblinde_ whom had eaten the beautiful child-maiden Princess Loki was given a full pardon and banishment from Asgard's palace as if it were the simple act of _thievery_ and not _murder_ , and now the Jotunn Princesses' nurse-maid Ein's _son_ turned out to be a _maiden_...what in Asgard's golden Realm was _going_ _on_?

Recalling the sweetness of Princess Loki's smile and her helplessness, a new anger boiled within the God Thor, he raised his sword to the Jotunn Helblinde's neck which she bared once more, the blade's edge sailed through the air, as slowly as a falling leaf, the silver killing edge which would clean away the transgressions of the Jotunn Helblinde cut through the wind, leaving the breeze broken in its wake, the edge crashed against Vili's sword – Vili grumbled his outrage, “ _Leave_! No nephew o' mine raises his sword against a lass, _Jotunn_ or _non_!”

Without further prelude or fanfare, the God Thor sheathed his sword and glared icily at Prince Loki whom hung his head, the beat of wings receded until only Prince Loki and Vili stood alone – Prince Loki squared his shoulders and murmured, “My apologies, General. Please do not dispute with your kin on my account.”

“ 'The Mighty' unproven Thor, protector o' womenfolk's virtue,” Vili scoffed, Prince Loki smiled as an enormous warm hand came over his head and mussed his shortened hair, they both went on their way to the stables, a handsome team of yoked oxen marched forth at the sound of their master Vili's voice, “Common soldier or Royalty, ye be worth twice any limp-wrist'd Princess fer sharpenin' ye tongue with!”

“Alike a regular ole' spitfire ye're, Lady Helblinde,” hey both embarked the wagon, Vili took the reins and clicked his tongue to the team of oxen, “Let's be off homeward, m'lady.”

Though the new title added yet another layer to the secrecy surrounding Prince Loki's true linage and his gender, he found himself thoroughly satisfied that he was given a reputable title despite his obvious Jotunn appearance, he was no longer a commoner nor a servant, Prince Loki was now _Lady_ _Helblinde_ and no longer _Helblinde_ _the_ _eater_ _of_ _Princesses_ , a title befitting an Asgardian warrior no less – upon arriving at Vili and Ve's homestead, Prince Loki unwound the tangled remainder of his hair and found it at mid-shoulder length missing its original waist-high length, he took a quick bath and redressed for supper as Vili and Ve would have done.

Somewhere within the revered Realm of Asgard, a lone traveler is dispatched with Prince Loki's forgotten braid in hand...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if there's little exposition, but Loki got his groove back! XP (even if it's not very much)  
> message me if you're confused, or unsure about things :3  
> i won't give anything away in terms of the developing plot, but of the things that happened already...sure! :)


	9. Titles & Fineries

Only whilst they were both alone and out of earshot of every hearing body, Prince Loki revealed his unclothed entirety and emitted his own male voice – Loki was always clothed from the waist down in a pair of formfitting cotton leggings which served to take the barest amount of bulk away from his member, a part of him which was still growing naturally and unhindered by refraining from all sexual activity, he wore anything fashionable that Ein had made for him and his ensemble was immaculate and as well-favored as it was practical: Ein was able to manipulate the innate male bulges in his shoulders and his arms to obey her strategic stitching's will, she laced up the delicate sleeveless white chemise over Loki's compactly muscled back and fastened it at the high laced neck with a tiny knot, then came the high-waistline dark green trousers which laced at the calf down to the ankle, Ein made sure stitch closely at the knee and the waist, lending the illusion of an hourglass figure to Loki's long legs, a pale green tunic layered beneath a slightly-shorter deep green gossamer silk overcoat with sleeves added to the layers of mystery which hid Loki's flat chest in yet another illusion, lastly an embroidered epaulette the shade of deep emerald that buckled just above Loki's abdomen and slightly overlapped the trousers.

So then Prince Loki was dressed alike so glamorously for the Fertility Ceremony was enacted on the Goddess Lady Sif's behalf since she had fully passed unto adulthood, there was a whole day devoted solely to festivities and merrymaking as Frigga and Freya came together to bless the entire congregation of Asgard, the golden banners of Odin's esteemed house flew next to both the white banner of Freya's and the deep red of Sif's, the whole of Asgard was in elation – it also happened to be the day that Prince Loki was no longer able to wear the fashionable low-necked lady's blouse, being that though Ein fretted of the state of Prince Loki's neck, “Oh, dear Prince Loki! What a fine specimen you are growing into. Your neck is slender and shapely, the prominence of your adam's apple is alike a delicate bead, and yet, it is a shame to cover yet _another_ _one_ of your most attractive features-”

The richness of Prince Loki's rare laughter still made Ein's eyes crinkle and her lined mouth stretch into a smile – after having been bestown the title of nobility as _Lady_ _Helblinde_ , Prince Loki was able to lease his _pretend_ _mother_ Ein from King Laufey's indenture under the sole condition that Prince Loki was to shun the God Thor's advances until payment was made by the Elder God Odin (again, tied to the current wager with King Laufey) – Loki stepped into a pair of cloth slippers and slipped his feet into a pair of handsome boots which Vili and Ve had gifted him for the very occasion, no heels of course.

“Dearest Ein, most loyal and precious-” Prince Loki stood from the bed, he took Ein's worn hands gently within his own and marveled of the paper thin wrinkles that formed on her palms, he kissed each hand of hers and smiled, “You speak as if I were your daughter.”

“Is that not the sweetest lie we have ever lived?” Ein chuckled, she giggled as Prince Loki spun her as if she were a dance partner and fanned herself as their short frolicking ended in breathless laughter – she brushed the black waves from his brow and murmured softly, “Despite your Jotunn appearance, you are growing more and more pretty each day-”

Since his appearance remained uninfluenced by magic glamor spells, Prince Loki grew ever more worried of the changing color of his eyes – Jotunns traditionally had glowing red eyes, as glaring as blood and deep as a ruby stone, the color attained by the passing into full adulthood and he was on the cusp of his last season of childhood (slightly past 24 1/2 Midgardian years) where his eyes would become the menacing crimson as was demanded of his birthright as a half Jotunn, his father kept the rare indigo blue since no Asgardian besides the Elder God Odin had ever seen an adult Jotunn's blood-red eyes – sensing Prince Loki's unease, Ein brushed her trembling fingers over his brow and thusly showed his violet irises to Asgard's gentle morning glow.

“Ein, please. I may one day turn as fertile as a female if you speak to me alike so,” Prince Loki shied away from her hand, he found that Ein was beginning to enjoy dressing his male body in all sorts of female fineries, even at times in embroidered gossamer silk and long tunics of lace, he smiled sadly, “It may pain you, Ein, and I apologize if it does...I am male and nothing may ever change that very fact.”

“Let an old maid have her dream, Prince Loki,” Ein took Prince Loki's face in hand, she traced the sharp turn of his jawbones and the skin of his cheeks where visible ridges grew in prominent indigo rings from his chin up to his ears and all along his hairline, another gift from his sire for whence he passes into his own adulthood – yet, Ein kindly kissed the ridge upon his chin and proclaimed, “You do look so dashing! Alike a beauty and handsomeness unclaimed by neither sex.”

Only a handful of Asgardians and Ein could inspire a tiny glimmer of praise and flattery within Prince Loki, Vili once compared Prince Loki's appearance to an uncut jewel for it was only light and the eye which sees the jewel that will see its beauty, Ve likened Prince Loki's entirety to that of a Vanaheim snow leopard, only the Goddess Lady Sif and Ein ever saw the formless light that was Prince Loki's soul – and in denying so, Prince Loki asked, “Why praise my appearance if even I know how much I am despised of for the obvious monstrosity I am gradually becoming, Ein?”

“This is who you are, whether by way of dark sorcery or by your true nature shining through, you will _always_ be beautiful to me, Prince Loki. At this moment, now more than ever,” Ein answered for it was she whom watched as Prince Loki was but a helpless babe at her chest become a young man that even his unknown fae mother would be proud of, she kissed his brow as he bowed to her out of respect and smiled as he straightened – Prince Loki assisted whilst she donned a grand silk shift and delicate strands of gold, lastly came her soft leather slippers – she then handed Prince Loki a pair of indigo silk gloves for the sake of his reshaped talons into rounded fingernails, “Come, escort your mother to the festivities if you will, my beautiful _daughter_.”

“Of course, most honorable mother,” Prince Loki then took her into his embrace, they both chuckled then of their good fortune, “ _Lady_ _Ein_ and _Lady_ Helblinde. The sound of our title is most tremendously fair to middling.”

A swirl of mist enveloped their conjoined forms and dissipated in a flash of light, they were met with the Goddess Lady Sif whom welcomed both Lady Ein and Prince Loki at her honored area of the banquet table, she smiled mischievously and produced a thin golden circlet from silk wrappings, her thin fingers made quick work of unfastening the plain bun at Prince Loki's nape and combed out his ebony waves with her fingers, she placed the delicate circlet upon his crown where a webwork of golden chains rained down the length of his hair, they embraced and walked through the congregation hand in hand whilst Ein went to sit beside some of the most esteemed bodies of the congregation.

Once in a while – as the Goddess Lady Sif and himself floated along the packed avenue where all comers blessed everything that they laid their hands upon, a grand symphony of heavenly voices, flutes, lyres, bells and lutes played as flowers rained down from the very skies of Asgard – as if all his dreams had come true, all his pain was taken away, his mortal sufferings had ended and the very soul of his body had taken flight...and then the God Thor appeared fifty paces away.

The God Thor paused along with one of Prince Loki's elder sisters whom was dressed ever more richly and obscenely as if she had hoarded every shade of silk and bathed herself in all manners of gold and precious stones, her ensemble made even the Goddess Lady Sif's grand robes seem common if compared to one another – the Giantess Princess Roskava's ruby lips stretched into a sinister half-grin at the same exact moment that the God Thor's smile became a grimace, the two marched toward both Lady Sif and Prince Loki for which Lady Sif quickly marched the opposite direction with her friend in hand, they played cat and mouse for the next hour until Princess Roskava began to complain of pains in her heel and the banquet hall was then opened.

The Goddess Lady Sif was then called away, leaving Prince Loki alone to his own devices, he found a secluded spot at the base of a flowering tree where ever more blooms fell and danced in the gentle breeze, Prince Loki sneezed as one brushed past his nose.

“Hello?” a male voice called, Prince Loki realized that it came from the other side of the tree, he thought about leaving in case it was a being whom detested the company of a lowly Jotunn, yet he stayed for the pleading which the voice asked, “Please explain to me what is taking place?”

“A Fertility Ceremony is taking place in honor of my dearest friend the Goddess Lady Sif,” Prince Loki answered, he settled back against the tree's winding roots and leaning trunk, it had been far too long since he had a conversation outside of his inner circle of trusted friends, “The display is quite...elaborate.”

“Ah,” seeing that the person as turned away from the Ceremony taking place, Prince Loki then figured that he should stay for the sake of the person whom sat in view of Frigga's garden – the person's voice was soft and lacking harshness as he asked, “Is the Goddess Lady Sif beautiful?”

“Very much so-” Prince Loki answered honestly, for even he could appreciate all sorts of beauty if the soul also bore the same marks as the vessel it occupied, “Enough to cause the entire congregation envy.”

“Am I beautiful?” the question took Prince Loki off guard, the voice then requested softly, “Look closely.”

“It seems that I am the last to be the judge of beauty, my Lord,” Prince Loki remained seated and answered in kind, he hung his head between the trunks of the flowering trees to keep the kind stranger from ever seeing his own face.

A quiet rustling interrupted the silence as the kind stranger asked, “Why is that?”

“I am Jotunn,” Prince Loki answered simply, and he knew for a fact that the stranger's voice would lose all its respect for him and leave, one never looked to a Jotunn for friendship if all Jotunns were thought as savage and pitiless beforehand.

“Jotunns, Elves, Trolls, Gods, I haven't the pleasure of ever having seen one beyond the veil over my eyes, one such as I can never judge with these two useless appendages upon my face,” the kind stranger's voice was interrupted by short bouts of laughter as if enjoying a private joke, and yet Prince Loki thought it was for the fact that the stranger had not yet seen him face to face, he asked, “What is your name?”

“Helblinde,” Prince Loki joked, for it was a name not fit for any womenfolk and seemed as if it were asking for judgment.

“ 'Whom is blind to Hel', how befitting,” the stranger answered, Prince Loki winced at the archaic translation of his name, “Do you find anything about me worthy of Helheim?”

“Worth is not measured by sight alone, my Lord,” Prince Loki said quietly, for it was he whom had known all too well the value placed on an object's worth by its visual aspect instead of its quality – he may look Jotunn, yet he knew that his azure skin and grotesque features belied a soft heart and resoluteness, it was one of the reasons his own father King Laufey disowned him at first glance as he was a newborn babe, “My face and body is testament of my statement.”

“Do you find the physical aspect of your body...displeasing?” the stranger asked softly, as if sympathizing with Prince Loki's plight.

“On the contrary-” Prince Loki wished that he could end their conversation instead of carrying on and twisting the knife of his curse ever more hurtfully into his wounded pride – he whispered softly to will away the last of his shame as it pounded his humility tenfold, “-it is others whom see me as unnatural and grotesque.”

The stranger's voice remained unchanged, Prince Loki remained grateful that he had not forced himself to be seen, “Yet your words and voice is fair, Helblinde, do some judge you too harshly on _that_ feature?”

“My voice and vocal nuances only satisfy one sense of what makes me whole-” Prince Loki answered, “-the same way that sight alone takes nothing away from your visual beauty.”

“It pleases you,” the stranger seemed to be enjoying their conversation as much as Prince Loki.

“In an arcane and noble sense, it makes you all the more pure, my Lord,” Prince Loki said, he then glanced from the layer of blooms upon his splayed legs to the rainbow of colors, the impossible shades which the Elves and Asgardians wore, to even the brightly shining gems and precious metals that the Dwarves and Godfolk wore, and he then took in the sight of golden Asgard as a whole – then seeing a group of his sisters glide by sneering his way, he continued dejectedly, “The sights here in Asgard are wondrous, my Lord, yet only few know the power of beauty when the idea and combination of pleasing features is used...to blind even the most noblest of Gods.”

“So you know my Allfather Odin too well, Helblinde,” the stranger chuckled.

“My Lord-!” Prince Loki stumbled over the trees roots and knelt himself prostrated to the stranger, he apologized profusely, “-I did not mean any offense-!”

“The only offense you would give me is acting any way than as yourself,” the stranger laughed as his hands searched among the flowers for Prince Loki – Loki just then realized that the God was _blind_ and the God reached gently along his left arm, his warm palm radiating gentle heat and lastly tilting his chin upward, “ 'Helblinde the _Sincere_ ' should be your rightful title. Rise up, please. I would so hate if you were put into a position for mere _words_.”

The blind God's beauty rivaled even Baldr's divine perfection: the God's platinum blonde hair was neat and kept in a long loose plait, his eyes were sadly moted by a layer of milky film and he wore robes of drab gray as if not wanting to draw attention to himself – Prince Loki felt guilty for not knowing whom he spoke to prior.

“I have gotten into more trouble for less, my Lord,” Prince Loki answered, as he attempted once more to lower his eyes, the God held his chin as firmly, “My apologies, if I but held my tongue-”

“Our conversation would have been a complete and utter _bore._ I have been filled with enough niceties and pleasantries for a priest's lifetime,” the blind God smiled so sweetly that Prince Loki felt the instinctive pull to lower his eyes out of modesty, yet the beautiful hand would not allow such rebellion and so he was held gently from the floor, “Please, do not turn away, Helblinde. I forgive you.”

“I-” Prince Loki's heart nearly burst from equal parts shyness and fear of the blind God's glaring mercifulness, and so he arose from the ground and quickly excused himself, “I am needed elsewhere, my Lord. Enjoy the remainder of the Ceremony-”

“My, my,” Prince Loki came upon a group of his sisters whom were strolling about Frigga's garden and stomping every flower's bloom they came within reach of, he stood out of sight from the group and overheard as one asked impertinently, “Whom is that poor soul Loki was sitting next to?”

“Baldr's twin Hodur,” another answered, they each giggled upon seeing the very God whom they spoke about – Prince Loki then found Hodur's sightless eyes trained upon him, the prospect of being seen even by eyes that cannot perceive stunned him senseless, “Exquisite, isn't he not?”

“Very much so,” the first elder sister answered, Prince Loki knew that even his elder sisters were enslaved by the sight of beautiful things that they could ruin for the next owner, “Pity about the eyes though.”

“Hm!” the second sister scoffed, she then added with the same say-so air every one of them learned from their eldest sister Princess Roskava, “With a face like that and sightless eyes...I wonder how he was ever kept out of a Dwarf's touchy hands.”

Retaining a surface knowledge of the Dwarves, Prince Loki was able to understand the slight against the Dwarf-kind for they were very much victims of things that were beautiful and doubly so if the object of their desire held treasures within fit for even the most stout of kings – and a God alike Hodur having both qualities of an appearance near Baldr's perfection and a most kind heart, Prince Loki feared that the blind God Hodur would fall victim to his elder sisters' awful charms, and yet he found that not all Gods were docile and they wished to be independent thinkers, even if their thoughts were oftentimes misguided notions steered by a pretty face, sweet words, loving gestures, which all hid poisonous thoughts – Prince Loki turned away then, he understood when his welcome had worn thin and he left Frigga's gardens for the homestead he shared with Vili and Ve.

“Little lass o' our eye-” Vili's whistly voice came through the oak door of Prince Loki's room, he stood from the settee where he was just starting to take off his fineries, he exited the eighty-first room from the left and walked down the narrow hallway which compacted as he strode along – both Vili and Ve stood near the hearth, Vili looked about to burst from happiness as they awaited Prince Loki, “-th' time has come that we, Ve n' m'self give tokens.”

“Tokens, Vili?” Prince Loki stared at both his caretakers, he referred then to the weapons the ever-changing sword the Midgard Serpent and Fenrir the enchanted shield that he had previously gotten from both respectively the Elder God Odin and the God Baldr, “Have I already been given gifts upon my age of eligibility not last supper?”

“Those were your gifts celebrating the _second_ _cycle_ of your age (equal to turning 20 in Midgardian years),” Vili waved off the time which had long since passed, time was but a single blink of a God's eye whereas it was a turtle's journey to Prince Loki – he realized with perfect clarity that he had been alive longer than most lifeforms, perhaps Idun's magical apples had worked their magic and he was living a nightmare wearing a daydream's face – Ve then handed a wrapped parcel to Prince Loki and explained further, “These are to help you become a member of Asgard's society. You see, Helblinde?”

Already, Prince Loki felt as if he was overwhelmed by gifts, gifts that he felt as if he did not deserve, each new endowment did little to ease the twinge of silent subjugation and seemed only to widen the hole in his chest, a longing he could not understand grew and grew until even a Jotunn's fist could pass through unhindered, Prince Loki ignored the prickle in his heart and instead focused on questioning the parcel's intent, “The Elder God Odin does not oppose my complete integration into Asgard?”

“ _Oppose_? Och, lass!” Vili nuzzled a large palm against Prince Loki's cheek until all troubles dissipated to the back of Loki's mind, Vili laughed heartily as he assisted by cutting the cord which tied the package together, “Brother Odin seem'd somewhat pleas'd. Now, here.”

Ve snorted and simply watched, Prince Loki unwrapped a pair of pitch black gloves, the articles appeared as if it were made of the coiling hide of a serpent, yet upon further inspection, it was interlocking metallic ore which made the whole of the gloves, each push and pull rang musically – Prince Loki answered, “Oh, riding gloves.”

“N' not just any ol' gloves-” Vili explained whilst Ve helped a glove unto Prince Loki's awaiting arm, “Ve wrote th' runes n' tamed a comet's black iron t' bind n' meld t' ye's shape.”

The black gloves seemed pitiful and small at first glance until Ve let go and the articles automatically constricted to Prince Loki's shape, he found overlapping runes and protective sygils written up to his upper elbow as he flexed his fingers and twisted his arm, movement caused the shining pitch sleekness to sing, listening closely, it was the archaic song of protection – Prince Loki smiled.

“Yes, it was you whom provided merely the idea and not the grunt-work,” Ve playfully nudged Vili's knee, he then helped the glove off of Prince Loki's arm and folded the articles for safe keeping, “It is loyal only to your blood, Helblinde, and it will obey your command.”

“Magic cannot touch you, weapons hewn and directed with sinister intent shall never harm you-” Ve lent further explanation, he then nodded to the parcel and gently pushed it into Prince Loki's grasp, “-as long as you keep these gloves close.”

“Thank you, Vili, Ve, I shall treasure your gift always,” Prince Loki answered, joy radiated through him as he embraced Vili and Ve whom accepted him happily.

Once parted, Ve clapped his hand and a grand feast appeared upon the table, Vili began another legend of the Elder God Odin's mishap in his youth, “So! Shall I tell ye o' th' time Brother Odin stole th' Jewel-Which-Seeks from Freya? It began one season many eons ago...-”

After the Goddess Lady Sif's dwindling last days of her Fertility Ceremony, the daytime seemed a whirlwind to Prince Loki, and the nighttime of Asgard slid by as slowly as frozen honey from an icy comb, the beautiful clothing he had taken off lay upon a settee where he had lastly left each article days ago, the silks and gold felt vulgar against his skin as he paraded through Asgard as if he were a normal citizen, so he thought whilst tracing ancient runes and magical symbols with his forefinger upon the pages Ve's tome, the time since then passed uneventfully and none would be the wiser when disaster strikes:

 

 

“Odin! Stars above and grounds below!” the Goddess Frigga screamed, she willed away the darkness surrounding her mind as she tore at the golden sheets of her bed and her hands searched the darkness for the body of her husband, her voice began to grate from yelling, “Odin! Husband of mine, Odin!”

“Wife, what is the matter?” the Elder God Odin burst through the doorway from the throne room, guards came in after only to be shooed away and ordered back to their posts – Odin held his wife Frigga aloft, he stroked her hair and whispered, “Come now, you weep as if witnessing the fall of an empire.”

“I fear, Odin, I fear truly and pure-” Frigga shivered against her husband's shoulders, his broad hands stroked and petted her matted hair until the trembling in her voice lessened only to return with a vengeance, she whimpered pitifully, “-the dream! The accursed dream has wandered through the hours I wake and is no longer confined to the night!”

The Elder God Odin pulled away slightly, he asked cautiously, “A nightmare?”

“A dream. The only kind which foretells events yet to come, yet to materialize outside of my mind,” the Goddess Frigga ground her forehead against the neckline of Odin's cape, her tears never lessened the more she revealed, the petite length of her hands became fists as she grasped Odin's cape and shrieked through her tears, “Baldr! Oh, Odin, I cannot bear it!”

“What of Baldr?” upon hearing the name of their beloved son Baldr, the Elder God Odin was nearer to inciting a battle as he had ever been – he urged quietly since he had long lost the trust of even the most solid of his own walls, “Tell me!”

“All of Asgard and the Realms will be in chaos! All shall weep from love unrealized and despair redoubled. Odin, my love and my light-” the Goddess Frigga began tearfully, she whispered the last bit of information to only Odin whom listened intently, “Our beloved son Baldr will die...”

“By whose hand, Frigga?” he asked low, lest there were more ears than their own within the room, “By what means?”

“Everything that I have told you is all that I know,” the Goddess Frigga answered in a whisper, the heaving and trembling within her shoulders lessened slightly – she then pulled away and went to fetch her cape, “Tonight, I leave to each Realm. Mayhap if I ask everything, living, nonliving and celestial to not bring Baldr harm, it would save him.”

“We must double the guard, triple...quadruple the henchmen and bodyguards around Baldr,” the Elder God Odin also stood, he thought of the internal traitors and those whom may be lurking around each corner of Asgard – he passed his words unto the captain whom would then relay the orders to Vili and Ve, “None shall have my beloved son, none shall take him freely and not feel the Allfather's wrath.”

“Have you not already chosen the elite guard twelve seasons (120 Midgardian centuries) ago?” the Goddess Frigga questioned as she fastened a breastplate beneath her cape and golden gauntlets unto her arms – she took a slender Elvish sword and called upon her handmaids whom were also armed, “Still, many are in reserve, Odin.”

“I sense a sinister scheme and it may involve magic,” the Elder God Odin would never admit aloud, but he suspected King Laufey as much as he suspected a rogue assassin – he passed a second decree unto a courier whom would then carry the message to Ve and Idun, “We have none capable of wielding magic other than a small portion of Ve's pupils.”

The Goddess Frigga nodded her understanding, she knew her husband Odin well enough that no words needed to be spoken – she loved each son equally and yet knew that Baldr was the most vulnerable being that the God was too welcoming, Baldr would even warmly welcome death and show up early to his own funeral if such a thing were possible – though their son Thor was a bit dull in the mind, he could easily hold his own against even the mightiest of warriors, and so they protected the God Baldr as best as they could.

“As far as I have seen, only nine are capable of upholding such a task,” the Elder God Odin stroked his beard for he had watched nine of Ve's pupils exceed the most skilled of magicians and he counted on revealing the Nine Forbidden Spells to Prince Loki lest an unfortunate day as this came upon the Gods of Asgard – he lastly whispered the third decree to Baldr's most trusted footman so that the God will be ready whence the time came for what ever lay ahead of their family, “One for every quarter-portion of the day, they will keep weary vigil of Baldr and his surroundings.”

Odin embraced his wife Frigga one last time before she took the the Bifrost and begged lenience from all Realms, he whispered into her hair as she took flight with Sleipnyr (8-legged winged horse), “Worry not, Frigga, our beloved son will come to no harm...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i cut out a lot of things to meet the 3-day deadline, it wasn't vital to the story, it was just Fun writing it (maybe some of the cut pieces will be added on to later on chapter, maybe not for the sake of Length), but i hope y'all enjoyed the break from Loki-torture~  
> Hodur/Loki anyone??? :3 Kidding, i'm kidding! ....or am i?


	10. Love Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> blackout since yesterday around 10, hope this makes up for the lateness

This very night, the God Thor could not force himself to find solace within a Jotunn Princess' bed, nor could he lose himself speaking nonsense to Baldr until the morrow came upon the holy Realm of Asgard, and so he stood vigil next to the God of Watch Heimdall at the stronghold's vast golden wall, he watched the glimmering road that was the Bifrost and hoped that the day would never come, that his obligations would never lessen and would grow ever more dangerous instead – he stood as if the slightest movement would incite a war, and little did care for the absolute boredom choking him of even the merest kind of entertainment – a black shadow in the distance caught his eye, Heimdall simply grunted and produced a leather sack.

Eventually, the twin shadows of the Elder God Odin's trusted ravens Huggin and Muninn came into view, their black bodies holding a single parcel betwixt their flying forms, the alas dropped the leather-bound parcel into the sack that Heimdall held beneath their bodies, after a short spell of checking the secret contents out of the God Thor's sight, Heimdall passed the sack to Thor and said, “What you do with this parcel is your responsibility, my Lord. Keep it close and out of sight. The Elder God Odin has requested for you to deliver this particular package to the flowering branch of Yggdrasil. Take care, my Lord.”

A kind of tone which the God of Watch Heimdall used had taken Thor aback, there seemed to be a trace of hesitation and fear – the matter must be urgent, Thor thought to himself, so he foregone the usual means of transportation byway of Unda's flight, he instead took the labyrinth beneath Asgard's surface until he was sure that the palace grounds were near – he emerged from behind a decorative statue of Baldr and marched onward. He entered the palace unhindered and very sure that none were awake, so he took not a single notice as a black spider upon legs of needles skittered after and hid within his footfalls, the way wound as the architecture gradually became fitted in a puzzle of golden walls – Thor pricked his thumb upon the golden gridwork walls and each cutting edge enfolded back until alas a vast room revealed itself, he alas arrived at the flowering branch of Yggdrasil located in the very foundations of the palace, the branch itself grew in sheets of illumination, Thor had never seen the flower. Waters from the Well of Urd trickled inward from the floors and floated upward, a winding staircase of gold climbed to the very top where Yggdrasil's single flower opened and gave seeds, the three nameless priestesses carried tall glass jars of the Urd's water from the top as if they were weightless, they poured the water into seven magical urns, one for each Realm, only Midgard had a hole at the bottom of it's urn and in turn was not able to receive Urd's life-giving waters.

“Allfather Odin!” at the sound of Thor's roar, the three nameless maidens disappeared from sight and pulled a rope which would unravel elaborate tapestries from the ceilings and drape the entire room with rich works of cloth and silk thread, the extravagance was used to muffle sound and give both Gods privacy, the Elder God Odin approached from behind one of the tapestries, “Give me your audience-”

The Elder God Odin snapped his fingers and the glass jars themselves took up the work that the three nameless maidens had abandoned for the moment – Odin's eye snapped unto the spindly legs which promptly disappeared behind Thor's boot.

“Everything that you have asked is done without the slightest mistake-” Thor began, he carefully watched his Allfather's expression for the slightest movement, “Both the Princesses Roskava and Jarnsaxa carry my seed, they will give me children.”

“You have done exceedingly well, Thor,” Odin answered, he nodded down toward the parcel still within Thor's grasp, “And?”

“The Princess Loki-” reminded of the wellspring of his worst nightmares and his most beautiful daydreams, Thor gulped back a treacherous burst of anger at the sight of the Elder God Odin pacing before him, he asked sullenly, “Where is she?”

“It is not yet safe for her whereabouts to be known as of late,” once more, an unfit answer and explanation which enlightened nothing to Thor's cause, Odin merely stood patiently and allowed only a basic knowledge of the Prince Loki, he knew Thor was not yet ready to learn of Prince Loki's true lineage nor his true gender, “She is safe. Still within Asgard's walls, she is grown.”

“I grow ever weary and tired of your tricks, Old man-” the last of Thor's patience burned within the internal fires of his love's agony, the long-felt sorrow of his hollowed heart where the warmest part for Princess Loki resided in secret, he found that as he grew older and more aware of his surroundings, the furthermost his heart grew fond of once more holding his lost beauty Princess Loki whom was most likely walking behind his age by several seasons (Prince Loki appears to be 5 Midgardian years younger than the God Thor), and alas, he gathered his strength to defy his father's will, and he held the parcel aloft within the crushing vise of his five fingers and his palm – he grit his teeth and hardened his features, “For the last time, either she is revealed to me or I shall destroy this parcel you hold so dear-!”

A grating holler shook the God Thor's armor the same way the Elder God Odin's breastplate quaked, their capes billowed backward as if the very palace wall had fallen in the wake of a strong wind, the waters of Urd's Well temporarily halted until Thor released his hold upon the parcel, in his youth as a young Godling, Thor recalled a singular voice which held two distinct tones: one loud and alike the snarling call of a beast, the second as deep and rumbling as a vast bell struck by lightning – excitement and hesitation stunned Thor in his breaths, which only returned quickened.

“Perhaps, my son, it is time that you learn why I played this careful manipulation called a ' _gamble_ , why I meticulously manipulated this fate we call ' _chance_ ', and followed this chance called ' _fate_ '-” the Elder God Odin held out his singular right hand, palm turned upward and silently commanding for the parcel to be turned over unto Odin's responsible hand, Thor begrudgingly gave up the parcel and allowed his Allfather to direct him up the steps to Yggdrasil's lone flower at the pinnacle – the Elder God explained, “Hel would not permit the Warrior-God entry to Helheim for he was not a coward, the Valkyries could not find him during the Great Battle of Jotunheim, he was lost to Valhalla – your blessed mother would not allow her beloved child to wander in her paradise of Folkvangr for she felt as if she were betraying him by taking the away battlefield he worshipped as if the battle-cries and bloodied grounds were his beloved wife.”

With each shallow step upon the floating golden staircase, the God Thor's feet grew heavier, he blew a thin sprig of Yggdrasil's branch until the entire branch stood dancing in his breath, the glass vases continued their singular work journeying up and down the branch through the maze of young sprigs – Thor glanced backward unto his Allfather whom followed and asked, “So each wager you had bested King Laufey-?”

The vision spread before the God Thor stole the words from his mouth: there stood the long lost body of his elder brother Hod, the branch engulfed his legs which were twined over the other, his arms reaching skyward and his long hair which grew wild into the very petals of Yggdrasil's flowers, veins of Yggdrasil's flowering branch grew into Hod's bulbous muscles, runes etched themselves along Hod's skin where the merest touch made each symbol visible as if each vein beneath his skin were twisted into the ancient tongue of the Elder Gods, his wide chest expanded and deflated as if breathing, and yet Thor knew better that his brother was not yet whole and not quite alive, each limb was in perfect condition except Hod's face, the matter was not with his old age nor the silver white of his hair and beard, the matter of his missing right eye drew Thor's attention to the parcel still in his Allfather Odin's hand.

“I wagered King Lafuey a small part of Hod's body and I have been keeping your eldest brother Hod alive by making him a part of Yggdrasil's flowering branch,” the black spider wiggled its way into the parcel and burrowed its way into Hod's remaining right eye, Odin drew out the spoilt eye and grinned at the sight of a wriggling black leg, he whispered a short spell and placed the eye within Hod's empty right socket, Hod's body instantly accepted its missing appendage as veins reattached themselves unto the eye and the eyelid closed over itself at long last, Hod's breathing became a rumbling purr of appreciation as the Elder God Odin brushed a hand over his bearded face – he then motioned to the flowering branch of Yggdrasil and said, “As long as Yggdrasil is rooted and alive, so too shall Hod live.”

“Far too long have I foreseen this moment until each even is burned into my mind,” Odin continued – though seemingly feeble and helpless, the God Hod's color had returned, his skin flushed a golden-bronze and his hair at first shot through each strand with dark brown until even the white tips had been fought back to their former color, Hod's hanging jowls formed back tightly against his square jaw and his prominent aquiline nose cracked back into place, his spine realigned itself as did the bones within his arms and legs, the crooked gnarled appearance of his fingers alas straightened and became fists – alas, his eyes opened and revealed his gray eyes, the right contained a black ring around the iris from the eight-legged walking poison in the form of a spider, Hod's eyes closed as peace overtook him, “This last parcel is what makes Hod whole at long last.”

“This is it?” Thor asked incredulously, the least he expected of the elder brother he had met only in his early youth was to say, 'My, little brother, how big you've grown? How mighty and fair you look? How have you been whilst I was here in the palace and you lived atop my body unawares? All was well down here within the flowering branch of Yggdrasil. Come, let us talk about you and your many adventures!'

“He may wake or he may sleep forever-” the Elder God Odin calmly answered, he brushed a finger upon Hod's closed right eyelid, “Only time will tell if Hod may overcome even the seductive embrace of death's waking sleep.”

“All this time, all these eons past, you knew all along and the only thing I wished of you, you'd taken _her_ from _me_ ,” the God Thor growled – he was torn between feeling absolute elation for alas having seen his eldest brother, and completely unimpressed, disappointed at the fact that his elder brother Hod _may_ or may _never_ awaken, the weight of Princess Loki's untimely disappearance from Asgard's palace weighed heavy upon his fragile state of mind, “How _dare_ you, Allfather?”

Thor paced down the staircase, his steps echoing and fading into the covered walls, he thought to himself: If Hod is alive, is there still a gamble to be made? How then will Hod fight back the unknown conspirators within Asgard's walls if even Allfather Odin does not know when Hod will wake? How will Hod survive outside of Asgard and the tree Yggdrasil's embrace if he is needed elsewhere? When the day of Ragnarok comes, and come it will, is it the decisive battle which Hod cannot fight in? Why sacrifice the futures of three and the entire Realm of Asgard for the sake of one God? How can Hod reintegrate himself into Asgard if he had been half-dead for so long? Will Hod even remember who he is? What he once was? His own legacy?

Seeing the questions in Thor's eyes, the Elder God Odin met him at the floor level, he said, “Rest easy, Thor-”

“Until what? What _else_ have you staked in this game of fate and chance with that detestable King Laufey?” Thor asked – he paced around Yggdrasil's branch, scrutinizing every single facet for visible flaws and ways Odin's plan may never come to fruition, he knew his Allfather to be crafty and secretive with even the most minor details which would then lead to events or changes in one's fate, and so he learned to avoid such direct questions – he instead paced the length of Yggdrasil's chamber, his voice a low boom as he asked quietly, “Have you any idea how long I’ve yearned and searched for Princess Loki? How much in my youth I wished to meet her in Valhalla and in the worst scenario: Helheim? The fires and molten stone of Muspelheim would never have kept me from the fragile and fair Princess Loki!”

“And yet, it took only seven-hundred-and-twenty-nine Jotunn beauties to put _that_ plan into action, did it?” Odin calmly stood where the staircase ended, he stroked his silver beard thoughtfully and met Thor's ireful glare.

“I was outnumbered! What was I to do whence you marched in upon your high horse and claimed ' _for_ _the_ _good_ _of_ _Asgard_ '!? You could have so easily spared me of these lies and schemes which surround you!” Thor shouted at the top of his lungs, Hod groaned from the booming sound which was mumbled within the room – though Thor was grown and in the full throes of adulthood, Odin only saw a child whom was confused with life's many questions and throwing a fit for not understanding the simplest explanation, “Only Baldr and Hodur were ever kept out of-!”

“They've suffered as much as you, my son. For this very reason, Hodur was in exile and living in Vanaheim amongst the Elder Kin,” Odin explained – he watched as realization bled across Thor's face and lastly settle into an expression hardened from denial, the God Thor must have realized that Hodur lived a life deprived of the simplest needs upon a Realm known for its gentleness and Hod's soul wandered through the Nine Worlds in search of his missing eye that caused him so much agony – Odin growled low, “I also had to manipulate Baldr into averting his affections to and fro between Princess Roskava and Princess Jarnsaxa until King Laufey was tempted enough to wager their Maidenshead! May I remind you that _love_ is what puts _seed_ into the _womb_ , and _constant_ _plowing_ is what _fertilizes_ the land?”

“They caught me whilst I was suffering weakness of the heart!” Thor whipped around and barked – he alas surrendered to the truth that even he was too weak to accept, he was a God of Asgard boasting powers beyond measure and was stopped short by the beautiful Jotunns whom masqueraded as their missing little sister Princess Loki, they each wore her face so carelessly as if mocking the beauty of the missing child-maiden, the memory of her was ever more perverted by the fact that Thor satisfied the will of his heart by bedding each at least twice and forever soiled the purity of his love for Princess Loki – in his madness, Thor dolefully stated, “Each look so much alike Princess Loki and yet are as blindingly beautiful as they are maliciously seductive – their beauty and bed-manners would make even the Goddess Freya blush!”

“If left to your own will, you would never have come thusfar as a formidable God,” Odin answered calmly, he found the time perfect for Thor to understand the workings of chance and fate, he revealed then, “If left alone in your agony of love lost, you would have an eternity of insurmountable sorrow hereafter the Princess Loki's disappearance. It would have been the end of us, the Asgardians nearly fell due to a single weak link in our household. It was what King Laufey was so desperately counting on, and so nearly, he was successful.”

“Hurrah for the Elder God Odin Allfather – master of manipulations and father of sins,” Thor clapped joylessly and he battered the nearest wall with his fist, “You played me for a fool!”

“The easy part was allowing King Laufey to parade them affront of you, the hardest was instilling your affection within them to ensure a child,” crafty and meticulous as always, the Elder God Odin never forgot a single detail no matter how minor in the events that came to pass and future yet to become, he made sure to have Thor impregnate two if not all the Jotunn Princesses so that he may have eyes upon Jotunn lest there be another scheme ahead, Odin had already planned each child's future from birth to their budding military career as his swords and shields upon Jotunheim, so that even their grandfather King Lafuey would not chance an uprising or a rebellion lest the children cut him down to stature and have him stand for his crimes against Asgard – Odin prophesied, “As of now, two babes will come forth after three seasons and a fortnight from now, both honorable and loyal to the Asgardian way...whether you would marry both Princess Roskava and Princess Jarnsaxa is entirely your decision.”

“I don't love them, I cannot,” Thor answered, he thought of how each Jotunn Princess would rather primp and preen rather than interact with children, yet they would make for even the most exquisite pair of mothers at Thor's side forever if he married either, “Both Princesses will make for cruel, and equally comely mothers if ever I take that hand of one or the other.”

“A quick feat it is when you love the one you are with,” Odin recounted his own affairs within a few words, and truly through no fault but his own, Odin had loved and lost many to the likes of propriety and acts of mercy, and so he knew that his youngest son Thor was also victim of his own plight: the inability to see beyond beauty, Odin hoped then that Thor would break free of his own self-deception in time to reclaim his beloved Loki before the Prince would be changed into a Jotunn for all eternity, “It was the only way you, Baldr, Hodur and Hod ever came into existence...”

“You love too _easily_ ,” Thor said, standing offside and watching his elder brother Hod's entirety twitch in a state of dreaming – the prospect of having children gladdened Thor to the core of his heart, and yet he was equally saddened at the realization that he would not be having children with Princess Loki, but with her _sisters_ in her stead, and yet he was raised the traditional Asgardian way which revolved around the sacred love between family members, that none shall be deprived of love and simple affection no matter how minor the household was, “The babes, I will love them and cherish them always, their mothers are a different tale altogether.”

“You, my son, love too _harshly_ ,” Odin thought then of how many were promised a great many things only to be left with nothing but the reminder of Princess Loki – each Jotunn Princess was at first spurned by the God Thor when he had come of age and they found his looks quite appealing despite his simple nature, he said, “Mayhap, the Princess Loki was spared your insipid stupidity by leaving the palace-”

“I knew it couldn't be so!” at the slightest mentioning of Princess Loki's whereabouts, Thor could nearly take flight from the sheer joy he was feeling, he grounded himself and proclaimed excitedly, “She couldn't have died simply!”

“Aye, she lives as I have told you since you were a young Godling,” Odin answered, and truly, he always told Thor simply that the Princess was in Asgard, unable to remember her own name or her legacy and she was safe, “The Princess Loki prospers and is very much a gifted lass.”

“Perhaps...she may be feeling betrayed for my indulgence in her sisters' beauty,” Thor knew a day would come whence his bad judgement would haunt him and the very day was three seasons and a fortnight away, he would answer unerringly of his crimes against Princess Loki's affection and promise to see no other beauty but hers' – the legend of Princess Loki may have built up somewhat in his own mind, more things were always added in terms of her righteousness and purity, minor details concerning her childish beauty soon morphed into a grand daydream where Princess Loki was the most splendid and exquisite in all the Nine Realms, and she would choose a lowly God alike Thor to be her husband – Odin never corrected Thor's hopes and daydreams, he simply fed the fire that burned and kindled the simmering embers of lust, “I hope she will find the kindness in her heart to forgive me of my many trespasses. In my thoughts, I've never forgotten Princess Loki, in my heart which I hadn't given away, I was always faithful to her.”

“My eyes may have been blinded for it is they that had starved for her to fill their field of vision – my hands suffered the affliction of lethargy being that I had been too strict a master and alas gave in to feel the Jotunn Princesses' icy skin – the vision of Princess Loki haunts my mind whilst I wake and whilst I rest for it was my psyche that never once felt the stimulation from an innocent mind,” Thor outgrew all illusions of his own childhood and embraced the shadows of adulthood the night he had found the Jotunn bastard Helblinde within Princess Loki's chambers, asleep in her bed as if thinking even less of the victim whom was now revealed to be alive – every new feature he imagined upon Princess Loki's grown face appeared as easily upon the Jotunn Princess' faces, be it the fashionably shapely lips of a maiden or a tiny beauty mark upon her cheek, the changes were always unsettling and he grew numb to their charms as much as he wished it were the grown Princess Loki he embraced in the nighttime, “My dreams fill with visions of Princess Loki's fair beauty.”

“Does she still possess the smooth white skin of opaque glass? Are her eyes the clearest blue that even jewels dull from envy? Is her hair as long as her entirety enough to wrap around her waist twice? Is Princess Loki still shy of being seen by anyone other than myself?” Thor asked himself – he imagined Princess Loki to be a grand beauty unrivaled and unchallenged by even the fairest in all the Nine Realms, that she possessed morals written in gold, her thoughts as pure and chaste as a jewel, her manners in the bedchambers the same as a sheltered innocent and her voice high and sweet as a bird's song – of course this is the vision all men wished for, and one meant only for Thor if he is determined enough to find her, “Does she possess her innocence still that even mentioning untoward topics cause her not a singular stir?”

“She may no longer be the same child-maiden you had once seen in her father's stone carriage all those seasons ago,” Odin knew of the talltale Thor had soothed himself with since the disapperence of Princess Loki, and in a small measure, the stories Thor told himself soothed him of his heartache – Odin knew of the catastrophe to ensue once Thor _realized_ just whom Princess Loki is, he said, “The Princess Loki is...grown.”

“I shall be so gladdened to meet her,” Thor stated flatly, the slight quiver in his voice and the twinkle in his blue eyes told a different story – and so Odin allowed Thor to believe the grand deceit of his own heart, “Hopefully, nothing of me as she remembered has changed.”

The Elder God Odin wished that the might of his eldest Hod's strength would never be needed, and yet, he above all knew the future unfurling as quickly as the last Infinity Stone shard in his possession – the one he has of yet to surrender to King Laufey if King Laufey does not give the stone's entirety up first...

Approaching his birthday, Prince Loki's eyes gradually began to redden, starting with a thin ring around his iris – so then he began to employ the use of a full-faced helm along with a visor and as his first-quarter of his age began to approach, he then employed the use of a thin veil beneath the helmet, just enough that the glow of his eyes was lessened and dulled, none questioned his methods of covering since many of the Nine sorcerers had their own strange way of identifying themselves, he arrived back at Vili and Ve's homestead after his shift was over – the better portion of the day was spent babysitting the God Baldr and the company of his elder sisters, he soundlessly endured each slight made of his armor and slight build until his portion of the day was ended by the tolling of the bell.

“Are ye well, lass?” Vili asked, seeing that Prince Loki had uncovered his eyes too late at the dining table, his mere gaze made even Vili catch his breath at the sight of his moted irises, Ve was more subdued yet weary of their ward's change in appearance, “Seems you've caught an infection.”

“No, Vili, my eyes just go to show that I am nearing adulthood,” Prince Loki explained whilst Ve glanced up from an ancient tome resting atop most of the table, he took a seat in a corner and took the bowl of Vili's mutton and tuber stew, he pushed around the tubers and spiced meat as he said quietly, “It's a bit sad, really.”

Vili took a seat next to Prince Loki, a giant palm went to gently stroke the plait of Prince Loki's hair and he asked, “Ye regret not doin' somethin' else with yer life?”

“If it were my choice, Vili, Ve, I would prefer this life with you two over being a Jotunn Royal,” Prince Loki answered, he smiled and yet both Gods saw that none of the mirth reached their young Jotunn ward's eyes, both saw Prince Loki's eyes droop and grinned at the realization of his immense exhaustion – he groggily leaned back against the chair and yawned, “The luxuries of Jotunn courtlife cannot entice me as much as the subject repels and repulses me. Did I speak too freely?”

“This may not be the life of a proper Princess, but it is the life of a knight of Asgard,” Ve answered whilst making quick work of Prince Loki's armor, Vili then picked Prince Loki's body up from the chair and placed him unto an armchair facing the fireplace, “You should not be too regretful, Lady Helblinde.”

“Trust me, I regret nothing. Except...” Prince Loki leaned against the arm of the chair, his mind half-muddled and slightly confused as he willed his thoughts silent and challenged a single idea to come under light of his mind, a glimmer of the young Godling's warmth from his childhood extinguished all other notions pertaining to his lineage and he yawned one last time, “Nothing at all.”

Vili and Ve kept their own armor ready, their swords sharpened and spears hewn – for only a select few were told of the Warrior-God Hod's liveborn circumstances whilst the remaining Infinity Stone's shard was kept secret.


	11. Unknown Enemies: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously on chapter 10:  
> Thor is a father to 2 half-Jotunn children by the Princesses Roskava & Jarnsaxa, Odin also reveals the reason behind his gambling to be for the sake of making the missing God Hod whole once more, so then Thor reveals his own true feelings of love for the Princess Loki.  
> Having been foretold of his death by Frigga, Baldr is under the protection of Prince Loki & eight Asgardian sorcerers.  
> All await when the enemy would show itself & suffer Odin's wrath...
> 
> don't worry, this is just dumb action & the only thing needed to remember for future references has its own bold caption  
> again, trying to meet the 3-day deadline & so the unfinished bits were moved to the 2nd part of this chapter (the next chapter i mean)

The Midgard Serpent lay dormant in Prince Loki's right hand, the enchanted blade lay entwined about his arm, the silver pommel tail resting in his palm and the head wrapped around his forearm whilst the razor-edged head lay upon his pulse, he idly stroked the head where two rubies were set into the silver for eyes and at the very tip were the engravings of a pair of fangs, etched scales ran down the entire length as the cold weight yielded to his touch, nuzzling against his two stroking fingers – Fenrir was an enchanted shield as such also, the vast wolf's own golden head stretched across Prince Loki's nape, it's body took up the entirety of Loki's left arm and encased his upper torso in a warmly vibrating embrace, the wolf nuzzled it's master's neck upon sensing his unease – Prince Loki also wore the black gloves the same way he always had since becoming a part of Baldr's personal sorcerer guards, he wore no other kind of panoply except his guard's helm being for their state of disrepair, he breathed evenly and softly lest there be an eye out for the shadow behind the God Baldr and the vigil guards stationed around Asgard.

The air was thick, each breath burned inside Prince Loki's throat as if it were melting wax, his muscles lay tense beneath his skin and his eyes tracked each movement, each comings and goings about the open inner chamber of Asgard's palace, no skalds sung the deeds of great warriors past, none recited poetry, no laughter interrupted the heavy dun of silence which made even the blind see the shadows which clung so precariously at the edges of Asgard's golden light – Prince Loki stood vigil this day at the highest perch above Asgard's receiving room where the holy visage of the Gods stood watch and served as pillars for the high ceiling, he sat at the epicenter, his back to the golden statue of a scorpion which was perched at the last etched branch of a tree, he felt a stillness, as if the slightest movement or sound would interrupt the fair God Baldr's day – the God Baldr carried on unawares, reciting poetry on the spot and enduring each touch, each whispered something from Prince Loki's elder sisters whom sat at his feet whilst he was upon a proper chair – this was the day.

At first, Prince Loki was confused, he was suddenly staring at the ceiling which was becoming further away and the walls rushed past, catching his bearings, Prince Loki whipped his body around so that he landed upon his hands and feet, the Jotunn Princesses ran screaming from the God Baldr's side, he glanced from beneath the low vizor of his helm just in time to catch the glint of four points of darkness nestled within the corners of the luxurious room, squinting in Asgard's golden light, he made out the shapes of four speeding darts from the ceiling which first struck each guard whom rushed to Baldr's side and dropped as soon as the dart struck the skin of their cheeks, Baldr and Prince Loki watched helplessly as the guards succumbed to the poison, spasming and foaming at the mouth as their bodies materialized into nothingness – thinking quickly, Prince Loki cleared his mind and drew in a deep breath, ice from the depths of his core rose outward and climbed into the bones of his arms as he willed each emptied armor to rise upon their metal feet, to raise their swords and bows unto the cowering shadows, two leaped down and avoided the ones wielding swords, one was struck down by an arrow, another tangled with a sword-wielder and was quickly ended by an armor suit wielding a long staff, the last escaped through a window which led straight down to the palace's second floor balcony.

“Your Grace-!” Prince Loki fell unto Baldr's side, a black blade (made from Prince Loki's hair) poked out from the God's side and blood flowed freely from the deep wound, the pallor and strength had gone from the God as the foul poison began to turn Baldr's veins black – alarmed and frantic, Prince Loki ripped a swatch from his own green uniform and wadded up the cloth to stop the bleeding, his shout echoed throughout the halls, “Guards!”

“Do not worry, Lady Helblinde-” sensing his own brother's peril, Hodur flew in along with the Goddess Frigga and Lady Sif, Prince Loki glimpsed the Goddess Sif's own wild expression and felt angry at himself for causing her distress – Hodur clapped a hand over Prince Loki's shoulder and nodded, “My brother is in safe hands.”

“My gratitude, my Lord,” Prince Loki stood, he added before sprinting out through the same window, “Be cautious.”

Concentrating on the ground and wind softened his landing slightly, Prince Loki kicked up the floor's gold flecks and sprinted after the fleeing shadow, a smoky black trail which was fading quickly led him through various corridors, into rooms where the smoke circled around several times only to leave a faint trail through another room – once in the throne room, the trail was lost, not a single puff leading into another room nor the magnetic pull of a poison's song, his heart thudded in his chest, the air was heavier, harder to pull through his nose and out his mouth, and yet there was something... _off_...about the room, the Midgard Serpent unwound from Prince Loki's arm and formed a long, thin blade, he strode cautiously over unto the rise where the two thrones sat, the sound of a smaller blade being slipped from it's sheath gave him pause at the last step, behind a mist of invisibility, the assassin's black form stood.

Smaller than a Jotunn and slighter than a Dwarf, it seemed to be a rogue Elf either under the influence of dark magic or drunk on power of the darkness – upon classifying his foe, Prince Loki raised his left arm and Fenrir bristled upon his left arm, the Serpent's head sang against Prince Loki's left hand as he brushed his fingers reverently over it's silver scales, the shadow leaped from it's perch and dove downward for Prince Loki, he swung the Serpent toward the rogue Elf, the Serpent wrapped itself around the shadow's upper torso and lastly around the shadow's neck, Prince Loki dove underneath the airborne shadow and yanked the shadow beneath his boot heel as he stood – the shadow struggled as he ground his heel into the shadow's upper spine and pulled the Serpent which was at the shadow's neck, he hissed, “Who sent you?!”

“One weak to his own heart and blinded by beauty ( **present** plot point within next 2 chapters),” the shadow's low breathy voice emitted smoke beneath it's black cloak, “Wealthy, powerful beyond measure – and envious of you, living treasure.”

“Your employer likes riddles?” Prince Loki asked, he pressed harder down upon the shadow's spine and heard the shadow hiss as the Serpent tasted its blood, “I do not find them very amusing.”

“Those whom live forever and cannot die-” the shadow wheezed within the Serpent's gradually constricting embrace, it coughed and grumbled, “What shall a bored God do to pass time?”

“The Asgardians scheme against their beloved God?” Prince Loki asked, he thought of the many whom would rather worship the God Baldr rather than _hurt_ him, Prince Loki tightened his hold upon the Serpent's tail and pulled, “What madness-!”

“Dear Jotunn child, no. ( **future** plot point) Search the land where Gods die-” to Prince Loki's surprise, the shadow knew his lineage and called upon him as such, and more nonsense spewed forth as the shadow alas murmured, “Find your purpose, dare as you try.”

“Your advice is largely appreciated,” Prince Loki answered mirthlessly, he pulled the Serpent's tail, the entire body followed suit and sliced the shadow straight through its chest and neck, leaving a pile of smoking black rags behind – as much as Prince Loki tried to reason with himself, he thought only of one whom fit the first part of the shadow's riddle: Thor.

Prince Loki wasted no time tidying up his appearance nor pulling the silk back over his face within his helm, Fenrir lay dormant against atop his left shoulder whilst the Midgard Serpent wound itself around Prince Loki's right forearm once more - he thought back to whence he chased the shadow through Asgard's palace corridors and absolutely _hated_ the rogue Elf with all his being, whence the rogue Elf struggled in the Midgard Serpent's silver grasp, he felt _excitement_ roll up through his skin and center in his bone marrow, and alas killing the shadow he felt so irresistibly damnably _good,_ so good that it was _addictive_ – disturbed of his own self-assessment, Prince Loki marched straight into Thor's chambers unannounced and still battle-torn as he had been, he watched the God Thor's eyes widen at his appearance and pull a sword between their forms, the God spat, “You have a lot of nerve, _Jotunn_ , coming into my chambers!”

“Why would you hurt your own brother?” Prince Loki strode up to the God Thor, he glared his partially crimson eyes at the God and asked quietly, “What has he ever done to _you_?”

“I don't understand-” the God Thor's face went blank for a moment, he looked down upon Prince Loki and asked sternly, “Has something happened?”

“Did you not employ a rogue Elf unto his Grace Baldr?” Prince Loki sucked in his lower lip as he squared up against the God Thor whom gave him another blank stare devoid of thought, he used the alternative name of a rogue Elf, “A shadow?”

“No, mayhap an Elf once for amusement nearly an eon ago as a jest, but nothing so malicious-” the God Thor scratched his beard in thought, a brief smile broke over his face before his features hardened and he asked, “Did you catch the shadow?”

“For a moment,” Prince Loki answered – ever more he was nearing the end of his patience with the dull-minded God and decided to find answers elsewhere.

“Can it still speak?” Thor asked, Prince Loki turned back around and faced the God whom looked equal parts hurt and angry.

“I relieved it of its life force,” Prince Loki said quietly.

“You _idiot Jotunn_! Don't you understand that if we _kept_ _the_ _thing_ longer that it would've _told_ _us_ the _name_ of its _employer_?” Thor asked whilst approaching dangerously upon Prince Loki.

“Oh? Thinking alas with your _other_ head now?” Prince Loki asked, he batted Thor's sword away and said flatly, “It gave me a riddle.”

Nearly hysterical and angry enough to tear limbs barehanded, Thor half-shouted, “ _And_?”

“It may be best if I keep the riddle to myself until more is known,” Prince Loki answered, he turned away as another commotion erupted within Asgard's palace walls, servants tripped over one another the same way the attendants ran about in circles screaming.

From behind Prince Loki, the God Thor emerged after pulling him slightly aside, they both watched whilst even the Jotunn Princesses fled the palace, a flash caught Prince Loki's eye, he strode up to an open balcony and the God Thor strode up beside him, they saw a shadow eclipse Asgard's glow from Heimdall's stronghold, the good citizens of Asgard cried out in horror as the blackness swallowed stars and the glorious gleam of Ginnungagap's expanse made of the universe's dust – the shadow approached, pitchblack and menacing, silently stalking upon the holy Realm of Asgard, the calm breeze blowing the scent of Frigga's flowers suddenly stopped, leaving all the Realm in complete silence – Heimdall blew the battle-horn and broke both Prince Loki and the God Thor's trance.

“Allfather!” a mighty voice echoed from the palace's lower depths – the God Thor fought his way through the crowd fleeing as did Prince Loki whom followed behind, they came upon the last passage to the tree Yggdrasil's chamber as the same voice called out, “Allmother! Allfather Odin!”

“Hod!” the Goddess Frigga wrapped her bloodied golden cloak about the God Hod's nude form which lay convulsing at the bottom of the staircase, she cradled his larger body close and brushed away a hank of tangled hair from his brow, she squeezed his enormous left hand in her own and gasped breathlessly, “Oh, my son, Odin's wild ways be merciful for he had brought you back from Jotunheim!”

“Steady, my son-” the Elder God Odin helped Hod up unto his shaky feet, they embraced quickly and pulled apart, upon seeing his youngest brother Thor, Hod embraced him deeply also and pulled away.

Hod turned back toward Odin and said falteringly, “Allfather, the battle- What of the men Captain Yllja, Oskor, Von, Ensl, Joryn and Sonja-? Please tell me Sonja lives-”

“She awaits you on the battlefield of Ragnarok, Hod, my son,” Odin shook his head, Hod's shoulders dropped in dismay and Prince Loki could only avert his gaze from Hod's nudity and overwhelming sorrow, “She fought to the very last and held on with your name upon her lips as if you were her prayer.”

“Allfather, I am a liar-! I am unjust!” Hod's voice was deafening and yet the God's stood unfazed, the enormous God stumbled his first step and nearly toppled over Prince Loki until the God Thor righted him and held on – the God Hod's voice cracked sounding alike a mountain shattering and melting after its pieces had fallen, “After the battle, I vowed to Sonja that we would come back to Asgard as husband and wife-”

“Was your _first_ _love_ not the _battlefield_ _'s_ _sacred_ _grounds_ , Hod?” Thor interjected, he stood beside his taller brother Hod and recalled every story he was told by Baldr as a young Godling, each moment of awe still caused him to catch his breath for high reverence of his eldest brother, “The screams and cries as you lay low the bodies of the unjust? As you punish the wicked and depraved whilst enacting the justice of the fallen innocent and fellow weak?”

“My son, please, we beg of you-” the Goddess Frigga implored, she took both her son's enormous hands in her own and searched his wildly-glaring eyes clouded with fear of the present and sorrow of the past, she gently squeezed his palms and continued, “-We are in danger. There is another battle, just beyond these doors...Sonja is waiting for her love to meet her justly...”

At the sound of his illicit lover's sacred name and his other unconsummated love whom died upon its sacred arena where heroes were forged by Jotunn fires and made legends, the mist clouding Hod's eyes cleared and his stance straightened – he looked upon the expectant faces of his family and commanded resolutely, “Bring me my armor.”

Whilst the God Hod was being prepared for battle, Thor and the Warriors Three took to the stronghold where Heimdall stood ever vigilant still, they may or may not have engaged the enemy, Prince Loki did not know for he was given the special task of appealing to the better natures of the Valkyrie, being that he was known to be a pure fledgling warrior whom honored Asgard's noble code: 'for honor, for friendship and love, for the holy will of Asgard'.

The Valkyrie's keep contained no gates, they wholly welcomed every last attacker and messenger alike, as if they feared nothing of being invaded and taken as hostage or for other fleshly pleasures, the stone portal opened before Prince Loki as he held the audience of nine beautiful women in their battle gear whilst numerous many awaited behind their forms in similar garb, their silver armor glinting from the fire raging all around in floating braizers as did the massive bodies of their winged iron mares, their eyes shone different shades as they stared expectantly upon Prince Loki's lone form which was motioned to halt at a concave area within the keep, two swords upon all the Valkyrie's sides and one's mighty pommel shone in the dimness at their backs, Prince Loki steeled himself at the sound of arrows being nocked and strings drawn to their maximum tension, fearing less for his unarmed state and rather for the Valkyrie's decision not to take the brave dead nor persecute the cowards whom died amidst the battlefield, but for their help, and nothing amused a puritan warrior-virgin more than to brutally belittle those whom knew less of a chaste life upon the battlefield:

“What have we here?” the head Valkyrie asked, she held herself regally atop a small stone rise at the very epicenter of a great iron winged horse, her comely face gave away nothing, no expression of disgust for Prince Loki's Jotunn self nor a comradely smile to welcome him as a fellow of the womanfolk – her voice rang out alike the singular strike against a shield, “A Jotunn _man_ in maiden's clothing? How interesting.”

Prince Loki was taken aback, and yet he stood with his hands at his side and open for the warrior-virgins' scrutiny, he heard the bowstrings hum from being drawn past their maximum tension at the recognition of his true gender, the Valkyrie stated contentedly and her beautiful face still showed no expression of merriment, “Do not be so surprised, we can see even the blackness in your soul.”

The Valkyries confused Prince Loki, they were beautiful women and yet they held such disdain for men that even the mere mentioning caused them to take up arms – though he may die amidst the Realm of beautiful warrior-virgins, but it still did not dismiss him from his duty to his adopted home of Asgard, he answered calmly, “Aye, so I am. I do have a black soul.”

“So, Jotunn _man_ in maiden's clothing with a black soul, what brings you here to the esteemed keep of the Valkyrie?” she asked whilst staring at Prince Loki from beneath the eyeholes of her winged helm, “Be honest or your next lie may be your last.”

Prince Loki began quickly, “The holy Realm of Asgard has come under attack-”

“We know,” she said, her chin tilting aside from agitation.   
Once more, Prince Loki took a breath and continued the message he was to relay, “It seems that we are fighting a foe of great power-”

“We saw,” she nodded unprovoked, her hazel eyes flashed and she appeared somewhat satisfied of the admission.

Prince Loki leaned forward slightly from the lowest dip he stood within and said, “And most of the celestial legion has succumbed to poison-”

“As predicted,” the Valkyrie interjected, she leaned back into the golden saddle of the iron horse and shook her head.

“The Elder God Odin and the Allmother Frigga implore that you keep watch over the good citizens within Asgard's walls, lest the foe comes in and begins claiming souls,” Prince Loki relayed the rest of the message unto the Valkyrie's awaiting ears and anticipated their answer with bated breath.

“What will you give us in return?” the Valkyries' conjoined voices carried through the stone walls and reverberated through Prince Loki's mind.

“What do you require?” Prince Loki asked cautiously, he thought then of his own attributes and spoke, “I am pure and willing to do as bid by you, my Lady.”

“We cannot have you, Jotunn _man_ in maiden's clothing with a black soul,” the head Valkyrie's voice held an ire for Prince Loki's true gender and she never shied away from belittling his birthright, Prince Loki felt their eyes upon him, staring intently upon his upper torso, their eyes set his bones aflame and yet he withstood the agony whilst they each murmured their opinion – she said alas whence the burning glances subsided, “You are a virgin, a vary admirable and sought-after trait, but you are a _male_. Nothing can be _done_ of males here. We were of no use to menfolk, and menfolk are of no use to us.”

“My Lady, whence I wed and have children, I will give you my daughter,” Prince Loki took a shaky breath and willed away the last embers burning within his marrow – he silently mourned the vow of giving up a child if he was destined to have any, and yet he felt the possibility was very slim, he knew he would live alike the warrior-virgins and denounce all contact from others, he knew then that he would need to leave Asgard and all its temptations behind, yet he would show his appreciation by helping the Gods win back their rightful safety from their unknown foe – he swallowed his sadness and answered, “She will serve well and unerringly until you tire of her support.”

“We cannot promise of tiring of her service, but we shall accept her nontheless,” the Valkyrie said, she sat leaning forward upon the saddle of her iron mare and looked expectantly upon Prince Loki, “One more thing before we come to an agreement.”

“Aye, my Lady?” Prince Loki gulped, he did not take much favor from the head Valkyrie's rigid stance and tone, all was silent.

“It melts, it burns, it freezes, it scalds-” she began flatly, her eyes burning into Prince Loki's head once more the longer she recited her riddle, “It dances, it throbs – yet when it breaks into pieces, it is one piece solid still.”

“It cannot be seen, it cannot be used-” she continued, Prince Loki could not focus, he felt his mind evaporating and all his thoughts fleeing as she continued to burn him, “Though some may claim to have none, all at least possess a piece of one – yet dies whence aroused and alive whence abused. What am I?”

'For Asgard!' the singular thought pushed away the head Valkyrie's gaze, he found many things to be the correct answer such as time and iron, and yet his answer overcame both the test of time and the vengeful iron edge, he spoke quietly with finality, “My heart.”

“Shall we ride, Jotunn?” the Valkyrie asked, her face alas showing a hint of a smile as her iron horse threw its head and flapped its wings friskily – she led over another mare and offered the simple leather bridal up to Prince Loki, “Or are you too clever to sit upon a horse's back?” “Let us be clever together,” Prince Loki answered, he closed his hands together and motioned outward, the window to Asgard opened and Prince Loki took the reins of the winged mare, he bowed to the warrior-virgins and said, “Safe travels, my Lady-”

“Sonja,” the head Valkyrie took his forearm in her own as a sisterly greeting, she then lifted Prince Loki unto the mare's saddle before diving into the window, she lastly shouted through Asgard's air whilst Prince Loki followed, “My name is Sonja.”


	12. Unknown Enemies: Part 2

The wind ripped past Prince Loki's ears, his long plait whipping behind as the winged mare dove for the ground in a V formation along with the Valkyries, Sonja took the lead whilst her nine underlings and their small division followed after – Asgard's tainted air whistled through the mare's bodies, the nine Valkyries at the front drew their bows and nocked their arrows, the ones' behind took a hold of their spears and positioned the sharpened blade tips toward the ground, those at the back drew their swords and shields, Prince Loki held unto the bridal for dear life and grit his teeth as the formation stationed itself atop of Asgard, the Valkyries were surveying the field of battle, and Prince Loki looked on in awe upon Heimdall's massive stronghold where a pitch black tempest loomed ever larger than the last time he had set eyes upon it's pulsing silhouette, as if the darkest part of Ginnungagap were yawning and belching the darkest most perverse beings known to Asgard.

Winged red-eyed beasts of Dwarvish lore arose out of the shadows upon the wall, they wielded two steely wings upon their serpentine bodies and called out unto each other with their hairless sickly jaws where only a pair of teeth housed poisonous saliva, one could easily ingest an Asgardian soldier in one swallow and grew each time it's tail was chopped off, talon-tipped eight-legged abominations stared with their many eyes upon the mound atop their gaunt bodies and ate unsuspecting Asgardian soldiers through the aperture at the bottom of its body, the stronghold became flooded with chest-height black creatures that stood upon three razor-edged arms and no legs, several shadows darted over the wall and zigzagged throughout Asgard's packed-together homesteads – Prince Loki shifted uncomfortably as the beasts at the stronghold's battlements began regurgitating half-digested scraps of armor, he feared not for himself but for those whom were doomed to lose their lives in such an undignified fashion.

“Steady! Steady!” the Valkyrie Sonja called out unto her armed warriors, each winced at the sight of a gray beast rearing upon it's hind legs at Heimdall's stronghold wall, the beast threw its head back as the pincers upon its mouth clicked and it screamed alike the crush of two grinding blades, it looked somewhat Elvish by way of its long limbs and beautiful face, yet it was a grotesque work of magic as it climbed up the wall upon a hundred arms which supported its smooth chest and long mane of jagged bones, the Warriors Three stood in awe as Thor made the first act and cleaved the beast's long slender arm off in one deft sweep, several more arms the length of two standing Asgardian soldiers emerged from behind the wall, one which was large enough to stretch to the very top of Heimdall's stronghold with ease – Sonja sat back in her saddle, she turned to Prince Loki and shouted over the din of battle, “Jotunn lad, go and help your people! We will stand ready!”

Prince Loki nodded and bid the mare downward unto Asgard's central avenue, he shouted over his shoulder to the Valkyrie Sonja, “Of course, my Lady!”

The Valkyrie Sonja drew her own sword and motioned her mare forward, each Valkyrie behind followed suit, they headed for the wall where nine broke away and hovered over the wall with their bows, dodging the Elvish beast as it swept a veiny gray arm straight across the stronghold's main walkway and scattered the Asgardian soldiers whom were just a millisecond ago neatly stationed and defending the wall, the warrior-virgins blessed the dead as they cleaved the enchanted beasts in a spinning vortex of their fury – upon landing, Prince Loki set the winged mare free, he bounded atop a roof where he engaged two shadows, one swept low with a poisonous whip as the other threw a vile dust into his face, Prince Loki's throat and lungs burned with each ragged gasp, he charged forth, stepping lightly and carefully upon the slippery tile, one at his right bounded aside and Prince Loki grasped it's arm with the Serpent's blade, he smashed the head into bone dust and a pile of black rags with his left hand.

The second shadow at his right whistled, the sharp sound carried across Asgard and the remaining shadows darted unto the rooftop at the signal, outnumbered by five shadows, Prince Loki sought higher ground where he would try to find an advantage, he spotted a seemingly difficult outcrop of buildings halfway between the overrun wall and the palace, Prince Loki's boots clapped upon the roof tiles as he carried both the weight his golden shield Fenrir and his sword the Midgard Serpent, each breath wrought a whistled gasp from his throat and jabbed a sharp pain into the side of his ribcage, and yet he sprinted onward to the slight rise where the buildings were spaced enough that he could move without being cornered.

Prince Loki's body coiled as he kicked off with his right leg and jumped for a precarious ledge just as a shadow appeared before his airborne body and knocked him down in a swift knock of the dull side of it's broadsword, Prince Loki's spine and shoulder blades landed upon the roof top first, followed closely by the five shadows and others whom were headed in his direction, still upon his back, he set the Serpent free and the Serpent wound it's way through their ragged legs and back into his grasp, pulling through the onslaught of pain, Prince Loki yanked the Serpent's tail and divested the rogue elves of their kneecaps, incapacitating each one in the process – he stood and unleashed the fire and ice within that consumed the shadows in blue flames, they writhed in agony alike pitiful souls of their former selves, “Begone!”

Cold heat consumed the five bodies, half a dozen more appeared before Prince Loki, he readily received a poisoned blade unto his left shoulder and was kept from biting through his muscles at Fenrir's protection, he pushed the sword off and grabbed the shining end in his left hand, easily the blade contorted and snapped away with a loud crunch as he ducked beneath another blade which hacked straight across his spine from behind, he spun around and threw the blade into the attacker's hooded skull, the shadow fell into a pile of smoldering rags, Prince Loki caught a sword in his left hand, he gripped the blade and cleaved off the shadow's head clean off its shoulders, the last one ducked beneath the Serpent's long reach and whip-like grasp, the shadow then charged beneath Loki's legs, it turned around and whilst still upon its back kicked both Loki's knees over the roof's ledge; Prince Loki grasped the ledge and held, the shadow stomped over his fingers to no avail, it produced a wicked barbed whip from around its waist, the shadow drew back its right arm menacingly, it then snapped the whip against Prince Loki's spine in a quick succession of sharp cracks which would clean a piece of meat to it's very bones had Prince Loki been bare of Fenrir's protection.

The first lick of the whip left its hot trail and shredded Prince Loki's uniform overcoat, the longer he hung at the shadow's mercy he knew he would be whipped bare of the shelter the clothing provided his body, gritting his teeth to keep from crying out, Prince Loki hooked his foot through a small ledge and held the smooth ledge with his right hand where the Serpent dug it's head into the shadow's foot, the distraction proved successful and the shadow howled from pain, Prince Loki grabbed the black whip's end in his left hand, he secured the end within Fenrir's jaws at his upper spine, one swift yank and he pulled the shadow over the edge, Prince Loki centered his concentration on a power which pulsed out of reach, the darkness so great and all-encompassing that it spread its sickly tendrils over Asgard through fear, the wickedness held the very signature of a particular Jotunn whom used the same means to rule over Jotunheim, a window opened beneath his body before he met Asgard's golden street with his spine just as the shadow had previously suffered.

The God Thor glanced from under the fleshly crush of the Elvish beast's hand, the weight and force immense enough to make his vast strength seem alike to a newborn babe's, the five fingers closed around him as he heaved his broadsword underneath the palm, the five fingertips further choked his body of oxygen the longer he stood beneath it's squeezing force, he sliced into the tough leather-like skin and tore at the beast's tendons in suddenly inspired battle-fury, the beast cried out more from rage than from pain and squeezed its fingers closer together against Thor's armored body, the God Sir Hogun sprinted from behind his occupied form, the double blade-wielding God bounded unto the Elvish beast's down-turned hand and jammed the sharpest end of his blades into the beast's thumb at opposite ends, separating the beast's enormous bones from the tendons within, the beast unhanded the God Thor, seeing his advantage and chances of defeating the Elvish beast increase, Thor used his entire body as a force behind the swing of his broadsword, gathering speed and weight behind the singing trajectory of his blade, he hacked off the beast's hand at the fleshy sinew of the middle of it's forearm, the God of Watch Heimdall called out to Thor, “Fall back, your Grace! I will stay and continue to defend the stronghold!”

“No! Not until we clear these vermin from the wall!” Thor shouted, he cleaved an eight-legged beast in half as it leaped at him in attempt at eating him alive and unawares of its presence, the beast's purple blood rained upon his face and clumped his thick plait against his crimson cape – the God slid beneath a winged serpent and swung around to track it's erratic aerial movements, “Not until we are either bound unto Valhalla or victorious!”

“We're overrun, Thor!” the God Sir Fandral was as battle-worn as he appeared, his neat short coif in disarray as were the shining emblems of his armor, he stabbed his sword into a winged serpent's head and ran straight for the tail whilst still fully embedded in it's opalescent body, the beast flapped uselessly as he kicked the it's long body off the wall's edge, he huffed pitifully, “It is wise if we turn back-!”

“To what!?” the God Thor asked, he stomped at a downed beast's head and hacked away at its squirming body – he continued along, slashing away angrily at the three-legged beasts which seemed an endlessly tiring campaign, upon reaching the other hand of the Elvish beast's numerous many, Thor drew up his broadsword and chopped away at the thick leathery skin which encased the hard sinew beneath, he roared his anger and ire for the invading beastly perversions made of magic, “This is our home! This is our Realm! I'll die before it is taken from me-!”

A split second and he continued along wildly slashing at the oncoming droves of beasts, he felt the pain of the Asgardian soldiers whom willingly gave their lives for their Gods and their miniscule lives were quickly diminishing, the God Thor took a breath as he recalled the last day of the Great Battle of Jotunheim that he had witnessed firsthand:

 

> That fateful day, he was present for the victory to ensue, he watched the battle safely upon Sleipnyr's back far up high from the battle, he watched a single ribbon of gold as it wound its way through the battlefield, leaving behind bright stains of Jotunn blood upon the snow, and never had the young Godling Thor felt so much pride and incurable envy of his own eldest brother the Warrior-God Hod, the swarming Jotunn legion was no match for Hod, each fell to the sure single swing of his silver broadsword – in his young mind, Thor could only think of his own future to be in battle at Hod's side to protect him from their enemies, and his young heart took flight as Hod laid waste to the endless droves of Jotunn soldiers.
> 
> The Elder God Odin and Hod avenged the fallen Asgardian soldiers, cleaving steadily the center arena of the sacred battlefield whilst General Vili protected the Sorcerer Ve whom upheld a protective barrier over the injured soldiers and the brave dead, the elder Captain Yllja and his young apprentice Oskor led an attack from the west whilst Captain Von and his second in Command Ensl came from the east, the Elder God Odin and Captain Joryn mercilessly swept the north at the same time as the Warrior-God Hod and his squire Sonja – the young Godling Thor was nearly salivating from the sure victory to ensue, the victory that was just out of reach as he watched King Laufey retreat into the mountain castle.
> 
> Alike two partners, a pair of twins moving throughout the battlefield, Thor's elder brother Hod and the squire Sonja complimented each other's movement – Hod's immeasurable speed and precise attacks paired with Sonja's steady movement and attention to memorizing the enemies' strategy, they were an unstoppable force as they easily broke through the lines set by the Jotunns and left the injured enemies behind to face the swords of their soldiers, oddly, the young Godling Thor found the Jotunn's formation opening slightly in the center and passably alike a trail leading towards the entrance of the mountain-castle.
> 
> Dreading the outcome, the young Godling Thor shouted with his tiny voice from up high as the weight of fear stretched its claws within his chest and seized his heart in its cold embrace, “Hod! Come back, Hod! _Please_ , _Hod_ -!”
> 
> As if hearing his youngest brother's voice, the Warrior-God Hod glanced up from amidst the battlefield just as both his squire Sonja and himself were cut off from the rest of their legion, he smiled so brightly and truly that one could easily mistake this battle for a play – Hod's smiling mouth moved soundlessly, “ _Worry_ _not_ , _baby_ _brother_.”

“I'll not endure whilst another sibling of mine is ripped away-!” through the fury of his own memory, the God Thor reveled in the power of his maturity, he wasted no second thoughts on whether he was foolishly breaking away from the protective lines of the Warriors Three and Heimdall – he swung wildly as a thick drove of beasts charged toward him in a pack, he bellowed at the top of his lungs, “I'll have no more bloodshed at the hands of my enemy if I have my enemies stain my sword's edge first!”

 

> That fateful last day of the Great Battle of Jotunheim, the young Godling Thor held his breath as his elder brother Hod disappeared into the oncoming foray, the gold of his flashing cape disappeared beneath the pitch indigo of the Jotunn forces, he looked on as Hod reappeared at the castle's window where the glint of gold and jewels distracted him slightly from the beautiful maiden whom sat atop the riches, Hod glanced at her and she appeared to be in distress whilst a pair of handmaidens fussed about her, she cried and screamed whilst Hod tried to be helpful and he took the poor being into his arms, just then King Laufey appeared through the limited visibility provided to Thor, the two shouted briefly at one another before the handmaidens took hold of Hod's body as if to keep the two from tangling – the beautiful maiden clung pitifully unto Hod's armor and whilst Thor alas thought deeply, he recalled the bump upon the beautiful maiden's stomach and her screams signifying agony.
> 
> As young and ignorant of the world Thor was at his age during the Great Battle of Jotunheim, he never would have guessed that the beautiful maiden was in labor and just about ready to give birth – alas, the seemingly innocent handmaidens changed into their true forms and revealed themselves to be a handful of Jotunn females, they quickly restrained Hod whilst King Laufey strode idly around his handiwork, the young Godling Thor screamed at the sight of King Laufey reaching straight into Hod's chest unhindered by the armor and ripping out the Warrior-God's heart, the battle changed tides then, the Jotunn forces drew back and slayed any Asgardians still fighting deep within their own ranks, all of Hod's most trusted Captains and his unconsummated love Sonja were taken as hostages.
> 
> Jotunn soldiers of King Laufey's court took the Warrior-God Hod's unresponsive body out into the snowy fields where the Elder God Odin fought on angrily, as if avenging his fallen eldest son through the bloodlust of his weeping sword, the young Godling Thor watched as the Valkyries descended upon the field of battle and plucked up the souls of the dead, and lastly picking up Sonja's own bloodied body from amidst the battlefield – King Laufey called upon the Elder God Odin whom obeyed without preamble to come before the Jotunn King, they spoke briefly as a cold wind whipped around both Sleipnyr and Thor's airborne selves, upon seeing his Allfather Odin turn away as if disagreeing to King Laufey's request, a hundred Jotunn hands reached out to Hod's unresponsive body and tore away at the Warrior-God's armor, the Warrior-God's denuded flesh alas visible, Thor watched helplessly as they ripped his eldest brother into small pieces, and tinier shreds still until his Allfather Odin consented to their request for truce – since then, the Jotunn faces of his enemies remained fresh and deep-rooted within Thor's memory.

“This is our home eternal!” Thor called out – he tore through the beasts unwaveringly with his sword and cleaved the beasts in uneven halves, the Elvish beast wrapped itself around Heimdall's main watchtower and squeezed its sinewy body around the gold and stonework, alas felling the watchtower which then led to the entire wall around Asgard to crash, upon seeing the approach of the cracks crumbling the wall, Thor positioned his broadsword forward and he charged headlong into the Elvish beast's many legs which openly grasped for his tiny form, the eight-legged beasts threw themselves at Thor and caught his cape, their own bodies opening up to gluttonous stomachs and a hundred chopping fangs, “These are _our_ citizens we protect! These are _our_ _loved_ _ones_ whom will pay the price if we _fail_!”

' _Princess_ _Loki_ , _wherever_ _you_ _are_... _I_ _fight_ _only_ _for_ _you!_ ' Thor avowed to himself silently as he closed his eyes to the Elvish beast's welcoming embrace and recalled her radiant smile which beheld no ill will, her innocence which unmatched by the most pious of maidens and her unrivaled beauty, he welcomed death if only the Princess Loki would be safe in Asgard – off in the distance, Prince Loki heard the words meant for him and felt the first root of the three-part spell come undone: ' _Loves_ _too_ _impractically_ ' for Thor's love was indeed practical if dangerously misguided, the crimson of his eyes reverted once more to the clear pale blue of his more fae ancestry – he charged over the fallen stronghold's massive rubble knolls, his feet slipping from the uneven terrain, and yet, he pushed onward, guiding the Midgard Serpent's edge round and round to clear his way to the foolish God Thor, the straightest line to Thor was along the Elvish beast's long lower body, along it's bony spine, across it's vast muscular upper body and even then, there was the possibility of being knocked out of the air by it's many immense arms and being taken out mid-flight through the long tangles of it's razor-edged mane – and yet, if he would just but open a portal to the star road where the dark power radiated, then he would end the dark reign over Asgard's holy Realm.

“You stupid oafish God-!” Prince Loki spat whilst he ripped off the rest of his torn uniform tunic as it hindered his broad swings and slowed the movement of his upper body, he used Fenrir to sweep with his left hand the enemies whom dove at his side and used his right to guide the Serpent's flight as it's silver edge reached in a wide arch to clear the way for it's master, Prince Loki leaped from the rubble knoll and unto the Elvish beast's lower spine where it's stinger whipped through the air erratically, he narrowly avoided the stinger as it swept along it's own spine and drove itself into an unsuspecting group of Asgardian soldiers, thunder cracked and broke the Asgardian sky into sections, pitch black storm clouds loomed beneath the shadow which slowly overshadowed Asgard's inner glow, tooth and nail, Prince Loki crawled up the Elvish beast's body, willing his boots to take hold and his his legs to eke out the last of his strength as he huffed through the downpour.

Surely, the God Thor was ready to meet his doom and yet Prince Loki could not help the situation as he wove his way through the tangle of limbs, arms which twisted and grasped as the Elvish beast felt his small Jotunn presence upon it's back, the beast's lower body curled inward so that Prince Loki would be forced to continue his venture upon it's chest where it's palms would be facing inward and it's elbows outward, once exposing it's dry flipside, Prince Loki stepped easily upon it's muscled pectorals which was stacked one upon the other and it's arms scrabbled madly at him, as Prince Loki whipped the Serpent's head and scaled body around to warn off the hands, one of the Elvish beast's hands knocked off his helm and exposed his Jotunn face, the confused Elvish beast paused for only a second, the precious second which Prince Loki used to cleave out the beast's enormous black eyes, he threw himself off the angered beast's shoulder and flew toward the God Thor.

The God Thor opened his eyes to a body bourn and angled at his own, he firstly took note of the indigo skin and was at first angered, as if the light of Asgard were playing tricks on his eyes, Thor saw then the missing Princess Loki's blue eyes, her black hair flowing gracefully around her obscured face and her white clothing alike the robes of a maiden's and her hands reaching for him – Thor smiled to himself, accepting the dream surrounding the legendary beauty of Princess Loki and he gave in to the enemy Jotunn Lady Helblinde whom would claim his head as her trophy, he always knew that the Jotunn Lady Helblinde would betray them for her own Jotunn peoples, he thought lastly, ' _So_ , _I_ _shall_ _meet_ _you_ _in_ _Valhalla_ , _my_ _love_... _my_ _most_ _treasured_ _beloved_ _Princess_ -'

The force of their collision knocked the breath out of Prince Loki, their bodies fell toward the remnants of the stronghold, though the God Thor was somewhat immune to the worst brunt of pain, the annoying twinges and outskirts of agony existed as he held unto the smaller Jotunn whom denied him his beautiful death, Prince Loki heard the God Thor's lips form a single name, “Loki-”

All manners of beast and beings under the influence of dark magic were brought to life, Prince Loki picked up his exhausted self from the rubble, the God Thor sat up after and begrudgingly offered his hand, Prince Loki accepted and righted himself, the darkness swallowed the entirety of Asgard where beasts spilled forth unhindered by the fallen stronghold, all was lost – the God Thor drew up his broadsword and handed Prince Loki the Midgard Serpent where it fell at their feet, Thor said flatly with a hint of reverence, “We are allied, Jotunn. Drawing that treacherous blade at my back will gain you no favors.”

The rumble of many feet thundered across Asgard, both felt the beasts' fury within their spines, they stood firmly between the star road and Asgard's overrun stronghold – Prince Loki licked the Jotunn fang behind his lips at the sight of beasts heading toward their remaining Asgardian force, he chuckled bitterly, “The same goes for you, Asgardian. Do not think twice if you dare striking me down before the end of this battle comes neigh.”

“Keep out of my way, Lady Helblinde, and I'll try not to claim your victory,” the God Thor for the first time was not hostile toward Prince Loki, they readied themselves as the Warriors Three Positioned themselves just a few paces away around the two-dozen remaining Asgardian soldiers – the Valkyries themselves were of no effect as they swooped through the air, narrowly avoiding the standing citadels and the beasts whom flew after, they expertly lured the flying beasts into their cyclone formations and ended the beasts' functions as quickly – Thor nodded at the shadow looming over Asgard's palace, “We shall drink whence we survive.”

“As you wish, your Grace,” Prince Loki answered – he hoped that the Asgardian citizens were well-protected within the labyrinth by the General Vili, and the Sorcerer Ve, he also knew his faith was well-placed in the God Hodur for protecting the injured God Baldr, and so he breathed in through his bruised half-mortal body the remaining sweet air perfumed with the scent of death – he smiled alas in realization that he was ready to leave the holy Realm of Asgard free of regrets and unhindered of familial burdens, he was ready to celebrate his beautiful death in Valhalla, “Bring the ale and I shall conjure the mead.”

The rain pelted down as a crimson thunder rolled through the sky, the God Thor, the Warriors Three and Prince Loki stood rigid, holding their weapons up and their bodies ready at battle-stance – a golden ribbon wound itself from beneath an oncoming hoard of beasts, the God Thor recognized the trail and he grinned beneath the sopping length of his mussed hair, for a second, Prince Loki spied the statuesque form of a God in dark bronze armor, his long golden cape flowing behind and his large double-headed axe held high, the God's voice echoed at Asgard's center avenue and called upon all beasts to direct their attention unto him, as the droves heard his voice, they crawled over the other to have their chance at immortality by killing the Warrior-God Hod, the Warriors Three and the God of Watch Heimdall followed after, skillfully cleaving the stragglers and beasts which reacted last in their bloodlust.

Once free from company, Prince Loki turned away and sought out the pulsing dark power which was slowly withdrawing itself from Asgard, it was just out of reach upon the star-road, he found the God Thor watching him intently as he took his first step toward the star-road, Thor stared ahead as if sensing the strange aura also – they climbed the stronghold's remains and saw a dark mist creep over the star-road, the Elvish beast reared its head over the mist, uttering a loud scream upon seeing both the God Thor and Prince Loki approaching – Thor said to Prince Loki, “I'll gift this beast its own hide. You scout on ahead, Lady Helblinde.”

“Remain vigilant, your Grace,” Prince Loki said in parting – carefully skirting around the Elvish beast which the God Thor designated for himself, Prince Loki continued onward alone, the second part of Prince Loki's blood-oath became undone and returned the natural smoothness of his skin: ' _Trusts_ _too_ _easily_ _and_ _cares_ _too_ _fiercely_ ' for truly, both the God Thor and Prince Loki had blindly placed their faith within each other, their rooted pasts forgotten for just the second that they were working alongside one another, the mist thickened – Prince Loki called out, “King Laufey! Show yourself, coward!”

“My soft-hearted bastard comes to grant me unhindered passage to Valhalla,” came King Laufey's self-satisfied voice from behind the black mist's veil, Prince Loki stepped before the leisurely form of his father, he narrowly stepped aside from a blade which hurdled past his body and struck Fenrir upon his left shoulder, the harsh blow held all of King Laufey's cruelty and hate as it left a dark bruise beneath Fenrir's golden alloy – King Laufey chuckled mirthlessly, “Perhaps I am wrong?”

“Speaking of-” Prince Loki unwound the Midgard Serpent from his right arm, the Serpent's scales glinted menacingly as Prince Loki cursed himself silently for foolishly appearing without the slightest amount of armor – he straightened the Serpent and looked upon his father's smug face, “-Before I end you, I have one question: Who is my mother and where can I find her?”

Being that King Laufey was tired of his Jotunn immortality, Prince Loki could only deduce that his father no longer held a taste to live longer than beyond the Midgard Serpent's kiss, suffering bruises which reached as deep as his bones and a fatigue which weighed down his muscles, Prince Loki staggered onward though he willed his steps to be even and concise affront of his prideful father – he stood beneath his father's gaze and said, “Either you can _tell_ me or I shall _make_ you. Your choice, _Laufey_.”

“She is in a coffin of ice where nothing lives, but all comes to die-” King Laufey recounted slowly as if to draw out the moment before he would give himself over to Prince Loki's sword and end his immortality once and for all time, “-within the deepest recesses of Ginnungagap, she is suspended half-alive and mostly dead.”

“Why?” Prince Loki asked quietly – at the passive mention of his missing mother, Prince Loki felt a strange insurmountable fury well up within his body which threatened to spill all of the Nine Forbidden Disciplines upon King Laufey, receiving not a sound to answer his question, he leaped upon his father's chest and held the Serpent's blade tip at King Laufey's neck, he shouted, “ _Why!?_ ”

“Is it not obvious?” King Laufey's crimson eyes seemed as if to stare past Prince Loki, he continued bitterly impressed by his own actions, “Love. She was bound to me by love, my love for her was a prison, and carrying you was merely a chain waiting to be unlocked from her heart upon the moment of your birth...”

So it was then revealed that as long as his mother was pregnant with King Laufey's seed, only then was she able to stay in Jotunheim weighed down by her ties to King Laufey – Prince Loki hissed irascibly through his grit teeth and bothered no longer with threatening his father with the Serpent's razor-edged point, “If married to _you_ , even a piteous Jotunn as _I_ would have left you cold and alone with your sufferings!”

“Yet, she stayed, your mother pledged her everlasting love unto me and she stayed though the weather was harsh to her fragile skin-” King Laufey recounted fondly as if distancing himself from Prince Loki's physical agony – his crimson eyes lit up from a memory, “She was nameless whence she came to me, and remains nameless still as I had taken you from her womb.”

“Monster!” metaphysical power crackled along Prince Loki's spine, burning through his veins and pouring from his stomach – the crushing force of his anger pushed King Laufey unto his knees as Prince Loki's smaller Jotunn form continued to gather each hateful word and action as if the past were energy, he stood upon his own legs as he took King Laufey's face within his hands and he crushed the Jotunn's skull into the star-road, “You hate _me_ so only for the sake of damning my _mother_? _Coward!_ ”

“So then kill me, bastard,” King Laufey huffed through the sharp pain within his head, he continued to stare past Prince Loki and deny the darkness clouding his vision – blood bubbled up from his throat as Prince Loki's power proceeded to constrict his lungs and ribcage ever so slowly, “It is what you want, is it not? To feed my blood to your sword and hear my throat sing death's song?”

“No,” Prince Loki answered, he withdrew himself from King Laufey's lying body, he stood with his self-centered father staring _up_ at _him_ for a change – a slow sneer spread across Prince Loki's face as he placed a boot upon King Laufey's throat and he leaned atop his knee, his Jotunn father's breath became laborious and slow, “I will not spoil my blade and use it to shed your blood upon this sacred place. You will not enter Valhalla, not with me in the way, not whilst I still have a breath in my body and strength in my heart.”

A kind of forbidden satisfaction gripped Prince Loki's heart at the sight of King Laufey's face coming undone, as if the Jotunn King had just then realized that Prince Loki had absolutely no intention of allowing him easy passage to Valhalla – Prince Loki's smile lengthened and he pressed his boot harder upon King Laufey's neck, “None shall sing of you and this very day, _father_ , and if any skalds shall, it will be of _your_ _defeat_ and _your_ _cowardice_ to stand up against his youngest and only _son_.”

“Do you not hate me, Loki?” King Laufey reached a hand up to Prince Loki's body, the arm fell dead as Prince Loki willed the Serpent to strike at the Jotunn's bicep – the Jotunn King's eyes widened, his mouth opened and he huffed desperately, “It was I that stole your mother from her home in Vanaheim, raped her, impregnated her with you, my glorious halfling seed-”

Witnessing his longtime foe's downfall rivaled the priceless agony afterward, Prince Loki sat upon King Laufey's collarbone and stared down between his knees at King Laufey whom looked upon him so fearfully, he took the Midgard Serpent back in hand, brushing the sharp edge teasingly over his Jotunn father's left pectoral, he asked quietly:

“How can I possibly _hate_ the one whom had _given_ _me_ _solitude_ to _grow_ _more_ _powerful_ , allowed me freedom to perfect my might, fueled my rage which also fueled my power, and is also the root of which I burn with an inferno of wrath – _you_ , the infamous King Laufey, whom had given mother your disgusting seed, then birthed _me_ from your seed?” Prince Loki's question came out sweetly, his smooth male voice alike warm velvet as he brushed a gloved hand upon King Laufey's sharp cheekbone – the joylessness in his eyes betrayed his seemingly loving expression and tender actions, “I am left only to show you _my_ _gratitude_ , King Laufey, for if I had been without _you_ , then I may still have been the insignificant _weakling_ clutching to my mother's memory.”

Prince Loki took off his gloves and touched his father's bare skin for the first time, he gently smoothed away a drop of blood as it wound its way down from King Laufey's left pectoral – he said quietly unto King Laufey's pointed indigo ear, “King Laufey, if you were not so intent on murdering me, then I may possibly mistake _this_ paternal union for _love_.”

“I banish you to your putrid hovel that you so graciously dubbed a 'castle',” Prince Loki spoke, he stood from King Laufey's collarbone and he slowly stepped along the length of his father's prone body, the Midgard Serpent's sharp tip pointing downward lest the Jotunn King decided to sit up suddenly, he glanced over his shoulder at King Laufey whom watched him so intently, “If ever you raise your armies against me, I shall do what I should have done an eon past and buried _you_ instead!”

“Why do you not, bastard child?” at the sound of King Laufey's strained voice, Prince Loki marched back over the Jotunn King's chest, he knelt upon one knee and made sure to put extra weight atop his knees, “Why shower me my rightful praises and not kill me instead?”

“Whence I travel back through time, I may never again witness your grand downfall as I do now...father,” Prince Loki answered truthfully, he knelt over King Laufey's left pectoral and spat spitefully, “Cursed be the name Laufey and all those whom you sire!”

Without a second thought nor a hindering contemplation of whether he was overstepping his bounds as a simple Jotunn Prince, Prince Loki pushed the Midgard Serpent's tip into King Laufey's pectoral, he forced the silver blade past the Jotunn's ribcage and alas he hovered his blade over King Laufey's heart – he spoke quietly, “Let it be known: I give you a large _heart_ and an even _larger_ _hole_ , you may never know anything other than your own _emptiness_.”

Snapped from the stupor of his shock, King Laufey sputtered and spat curses at Prince Loki whom wrenched the blade to and fro within the Jotunn King's chest, he carved out the hole as he willed the Jotunn's cold heart to expand until it became alike a second skin beneath King Laufey's muscles, the wound itself was completely bloodless and yet the cries wretched from King Laufey's lips were alike the sweetest song Prince Loki had ever heard, the dark magic crackled its hot icy fingers through Prince Loki's body and he drank of the power deeply, fusing the poisonous magic with his own – the last spell drew itself away from Prince Loki's indigo skin and left him as a battle-worn half-fae, he then knew that he ' _Realized_ _the_ _strength_ _of_ _his_ _own_ _resolve_ ' for he had conquered his father alas.

Joyous cries from Asgard signaled the end of the battle, Prince Loki stood upon the star-road no longer held captive by his own irrational fear of being hurt by Thor or any other being, deep in contemplation of whether he should leave elsewhere or stay within Asgard, he leaned down and picked up his discarded weapons, glancing both ways at the black mist which withdrew itself from Ginnungagap and Asgard, he looked lastly upon the star-road and mused to himself of the ice-coffin where his mother lay helpless.

Several day-cycles had passed before the Elder God Odin went about the vow to King Laufey and that he should honor his own promise by forcing one of his Odinsons to at least _consider_ marriage as a sign of good will to the defeated King of Jotunheim, and allow complete submission to their new life as Gods whom no longer cavorted freely nor gave in to fleshly temptations – as if he had explained a thousand times and a thousand times he did say, the Elder God Odin said, “A vow is a vow and so you shall choose a daughter of King Laufey's to wed-”

“Why not ask Baldr, or any other of my two brothers?” as if hearing the same entreaty and asking the same way a thousand times, Thor sulked deeply whilst a small army of attendants tended to his armor as he stood in full regalia beneath their quick hands – he recalled the morning of waking up alone and doubly ill-humored, his heart heavy and his mind troubled with a thousand problems, suffering the dual troubles of a hangover and an unkempt appearance, the Goddess Frigga squeaked at the sight of him just an hour prior.

“Baldr is still incapacitated, Hodur cannot for he has no prior knowledge of the Jotunn Princesses-” the Goddess Frigga shook her head, she stood before the God Thor and straightened a combed hank of hair which had come away from his golden headband, “It is time, Thor, that you should hold some responsibilities instead of passing each one off to Baldr.”

“How can I whence I had already seen death...wearing Princess Loki's beautiful face?” Thor asked cheerlessly, he shrugged away from an attendant whom tried once more to braid his shoulder-length hair and tame his scruffy beard once and for all – as if seeing a phantom during the battle, the God Thor asked all around if anyone had seen a beautiful maiden upon the battlefield, her white robes long and flowing behind, her glossy black hair plaited at her back and a silver sword in her right hand, all thought the God had become delirious and mad during the battle from love-sickness, Thor could only wish that he had seen the missing Princess Loki, he was also informed that the Jotunn Lady Helblinde went missing along with King Laufey, the gossip made no difference, “Am I hopelessly in love with death or is death hopelessly in love with me? Even I cannot see past the blind wickedness of my heart.”

“You, my son, would force your sickly elder brother to wed one of the Princesses though he is comatose still?” the Goddess Frigga gently took one of Thor's large hands within her own and she asked softly, “Are you truly as heartless as to damn him to a life of sure suffering?”

Thor withdrew himself, he could no longer lay with another unless he shared his heart with the mysterious phantom warrior-maiden from the battlefield, he avoided the Jotunn Princesses straight after the battle and ignored their pleas to warm their beds – he growled, “What of _my_ suffering-?”

“Am I not the one whom did not force you to impregnate both the Princesses Roskava and Jarnsaxa?” the Elder God Odin asked, he was nearing the end of his patience and simply strode out in a huff, he lastly said before shutting the door to Thor's chambers, “Either choose _one_ of the seven-hundred-and-thirty or marry _both_ the Princesses Roskava and Jarnsaxa, the choice is yours' alone.”

Shirking duties was the work of cowards so thought the God Thor, he alas pushed open the double doors and strode out into the palace's empty hallway, the Warriors Three and Lady Sif followed him wordlessly, they sensed his unease and made no comment of his impending nuptials – the God Thor held his fists tightly at his sides, his knuckles showing white and his steps heavy upon the golden palace floors, his fury reached a boiling point at the sight of a decorative statue made in his own likeness, he smashed his idle fists against the golden statue, destroying the sculpture's handsome features first before he broke the nearest pillar from the palace and used it as a bludgeoning club upon the golden statue, none interrupted him as he beat the sculpture's mighty stance into gold dust, alas at peace with his situation, Thor unhanded the pillar and continued his march, once in a while showing sudden outbursts of violence upon inanimate objects littered about the palace, only the one's in his likeness or dedicated to himself – he reached the throne room at a side entrance and nodded wordlessly as the many Jotunn Princesses curtsied before him, avowing their everlasting love and devotion to him if they were ever considered for marriage.

“We call upon Princess Loki-” the palace herald called out the last name written upon a scroll which reached unto the last step where Thor stood devoid of emotion and denying the smallest hope for a reprieve – his ear perked up at the herald's words, “Princess Loki?”

The Jotunn Princesses tittered to themselves, making small jokes to one another that a verily countrified _Helblinde_ would stomp through the palace demanding to marry the eligible God Thor, and that the _Princess_ _Loki_ was missing for the better part of the eon – Thor had lost all hope and figure at long last that he was never to be reunited once more with his beloved Princess Loki, he let out a defeated breath and looked upon the many expectant faces.

The Princesses giggled as nine soldiers marched through the procession, they stood as a barrier between the Jotunn Princesses and the Asgardian Gods, one at the center knelt upon one knee and announced to the entire audience, “Present, your Grace.”

Eyes of every Jotunn Princess rolled about the throne room, glaring unto each face as if it were their lost younger sibling whom dared to steal away their future as kept wives of the God Thor, they stared intently at the hall behind and willed the banished Prince Loki to show himself and all his shame in the face of the fair Gods – respectfully removing his helm, Prince Loki stayed knelt upon his knee, the entire court let out a scandalized gasp at the realization that he was near the throne's platform, even Prince Loki's elder sisters could not deny how exquisitely _handsome_ he had become, Thor held his breath, his heart ached and thrashed within his chest.

Truly, even in maturity, the Princess Loki was far more fair then any face ever beheld by the God Thor – the Princess wore her long wavy hair free of restraints, her glossy obsidian hair flowed down the side of her face and over her armor, all softness of her face from childhood was replaced by an elongated smoothness that was neither ugly nor disproportionate, her eyes were deep-set and small, a wide contrast from her sisters' larger eyes and seemingly cold in color, and yet Princess Loki's eyes were framed by long eyelashes and thick expressive eyebrows, not at all thin nor obtrusively sharp alike her sisters', Princess Loki's cheeks were smooth and downward sloping, not at all wearing the illusion of high cheekbones or fluidly tapered jawbones and large pouting lips, the actual Princess Loki's jawbones were slightly squared and her blossom-pink lips finely-shaped yet held in a tight line as if she were withholding a secret, her skin was not so white as snow, she held a delicate pallor in her cheeks from having been outside and exposed regularly to Asgard's daylight glow.

As if he were the ignorant Godling of his past, Thor could no longer deny the immovable hold Princess Loki held upon his heart, he stepped down the platform stiffly, his lust fueled by the Princess Loki's half-fearful gaze, he held out his hand to the Princess Loki and felt her name burn past his lips, “Princess Loki-”

Animalistic desire as pure as the effect of a liquid aphrodisiac curled within Thor's body, he thought of nothing but getting the Princess Loki alone and nude within the privacy of his chambers where he may enact the many sinful actions ever known to Gods and Goddesses – the Princess Loki stood up without Thor's help, her helm in one hand and she stated flatly with a very, very _male_ voice, “I can claim my _own_ victory, your Grace, and I refuse your drink for I am a _Prince_ of Jotunheim.”

Though she... _he_ was still smaller than the God Thor, the Princess... _Prince_ was still a good length taller than all the Goddesses in Asgard – Thor's stomach hit the ground at the same time as his brain, and yet with a humiliating amount of clarity, Thor knew that he would not mind in the least having his first _male_ if the said-body of the male was Princess... _Prince_ _Loki_!

_Thor wanted the Jotunn Prince regardless of gender and their conflicting history._

**Author's Note:**

> my internet is a little .... unreliable, but i make it a priority to answer comments around 6pm-8pm on weekdays & all throughout the weekend  
> okay, so we're scheduled :)


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